Anna and the Blog

The only things I have made with my hands

2011-11-30T19:11:00.000-08:00

So, many moons ago I posted pictures of my first quilt here. Since then I have made 1 and 8/9ths of a quilt and I thought I would regale you with them now.

This elephant quilt is Jojo's.

I started it back when we had decided her name was going to Lucinda Maxine Lewis. That is why it is monogrammed L M L on the back. Obviously, we did not name her that, but what is sewn is sewn. Kind of like when I dedicated my thesis to Sophia R Lewis, but I named my daughter Sophia Jane. Oh well.

For the record, we almost named Jojo, Lucinda Hero Lewis as well. What stopped us was the actual mythological story of the girl Hero, which is not very inspiring. Even Shakespeare's Hero was a bit of a sissy.

Here is the quilt I am almost done with now. I had planned to be done with it by the end of Nablopomo, but I forgot how much teaching University of Spleenex sucks the soul out of you. Still, I have seven months to finish it, so I should finish it in time for mini-me #3.

Here is a close up of the monkey.

I'm super proud of this one, and I'll tell you why--I designed the whole thing AND it's entirely hand quilted. What this means is that I am a genius.

Happy Nablopomo everyone!

The Day Boy and the Night Girl

2011-11-29T15:18:00.000-08:00

When I was in high school I read this charming fairy tale and promptly forgot the name of it. It was about an evil witch scientist who performs a terrible experiment where she essentially kidnaps two babies and raises one in darkness and one in light. Eventually the two, a boy and girl, meet and have to defeat the witch, helping each other overcome their fears of darkness or light. It's just a cool story and I've thought a lot about it since then. I was reading a book last night that quoted that story! So I looked it up. The story is called "The Day Boy and the Night Girl" and it was written by the pastor George MacDonald in the late 1800s. You can listen to it online here. I couldn't find a nice online copy to read, though I found a lot of comments by people saying there is one. Anyway, it turns out he's written other stories that I really liked as a kid, like "The Princess and the Goblin."

It was kind of cool.

NABLOPOMO is going so slow this year...

2011-11-28T18:25:00.000-08:00

Seriously, it's killing me.

Here's some fun news. My friend Diana Smith (who is awesome by the way), told me about a poetry contest on Goodreads, so I submitted and I got honorable mention. So I thought I would honorably mention that to you all. Here is the poem (I wrote it soon after Chris and I were married):

Elegy for my husband not yet dead, or even ill

After I paint the house black,
not just the walls,
but the screen door, the refrigerator and the toilet seat.

After I throw your finches out the third floor window,
put the gold fish and bowl in the freezer,
and ask the mortuary to bury Rufus the kitten with you.

After I have poured rubbing alcohol into the soil of the houseplants
raked 15 pounds of salt into our vegetable garden, and the neighbor's yard
maybe after that, I will be able to forget this Thursday morning

the white kitchen curtains
the blueberry bagels growing cold on the table
your lemon-blue eyes smiling at me over orange juice.

First Advent

2011-11-27T18:30:00.000-08:00

We celebrated our first advent tonight. That means we had a lot of goodies out and invited some friends to come over and celebrate with us. In retrospect, we think we may have jumped the gun. First Advent may be next Sunday. Oh well. It was fun, and since this is the last of four days Chris has off until December 16th, it might have been the only chance we have to celebrate with him.

So I just looked it up and today is the first Sunday of advent so, we did it right. Ah, the wonders of Google. Anyway I have nothing to say except it was a lovely evening. We had cinnamon rolls, cookies, pineapple, shrimp,chips and guacamole, Brie and crackers, juice, and cocoa. We played Settlers of Catan and the kids did not go crazy.

Hooray for the Christmas Season!

Guest Post by the Husband

2011-11-26T18:45:00.001-08:00

Anna remembered that she hadn't posted yet today, so I told her that I would write one for her. I didn't have anything in mind, so I think I will cover my last year quickly and then write a little bit about how things are going now.
Sep-Nov 2010 was Basic Training. Horrible stuff. I don't recommend it unless you need to deflate your ego or lose lots of weight.
Nov-Mar 2011 was Officer Candidate School. Meh. It was better but I was glad to live with Anna again when it was over.
Mar-July 2011 THE BEST. The Armor School hadn't opened on Fort Benning yet so I was sent to be a temporary staff officer at OCS. I took a lot (A LOT) of naps and read a lot of books. WHen I wasn't doing that I was watching TV or planning how to go home early.
July-Nov 2011 THE WORST. Becoming Armor Branch qualified at the Basic Officer Leadership Course (Armor BOLC). Long days and late nights writing operations orders and giving presentations.

Now I am in a course called the Army Reconnaissance Course. I am learning how to do recon and surveillance work and how to train others how to do it on a tight budget. It is the only really useful school I have gone to yet. The Department of Defense is undergoing some huge cuts (projected 1 Trillion dollars in the next 10 years) and we are going to have to learn to do more with less.
We just finished a field exercise where we conducted day and night land navigation for four days, eight hours of sleep total, carrying everything you would need except for water (supplied once every 24 hours). It was fantastic training and only required three 5 gallon water jugs and a couple of radios.
But I am excited to be done with training and move out to Germany.

Additionally:
1)I am finally reading the Lord of the Rings. I have been meaning to start it since 2001.
2)I recently splurged and bought myself a pack of Toaster Struedel but realized when I got home that we haven't had a toaster for about a year now. I am trying to think of other ways to cook them.
3)I have been watching this video a lot lately. Dubstep+robot dancing= chris/soapy/jojo dance parties.

Chris got his Stetson

2011-11-25T14:09:00.000-08:00

Chris got his Stetson today. As you can see, it is pretty sweet. You can tell he likes it because I can NEVER get him to pose for a picture and I got him outside (where anyone could have seen him). He's also been wearing it around the house all day. I think it's awesome.

2011-11-24T16:17:00.000-08:00

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

What we did tonight

2011-11-23T18:26:00.000-08:00

1. We ordered pizza.
2. We went to Barnes and Noble to use some 40% off coupons for Christmas presents.
3. Sophie taught us a cool new game. Jojo enjoyed it especially.

Charity Fail

2011-11-22T14:22:00.001-08:00

Today I told a friend we wouldn't be joining their group to go carolling at the nursing home tonight because the thought of old people made me want to vomit.

The joys of perpetual morning sickness.

Awesome pictures from my youth

2011-11-21T17:59:00.000-08:00

The only regret I have about this picture is that you can't see the whole glory of the feathered hair clip I was wearing. I think this is fourth or fifth grade.

This next one of my mom and me shows my baby charm to the max, I think.

And here's one of my dad and me for good measure.

Here is me with my winning smile.

Showing off my yellow dress.

And finally, this one is here only for Bryan and Katie who don't believe I really do have a family. This is Christmas my freshman year of college with my Mom, and my brothers Matt, Erik, and Joe. My brother Tom was on his mission. Oh, and that's my murderous dog Moby Dick. It's actually not a flattering picture of my brothers at all, but it's the only one I seem to have right now. I promise they are all quite good looking and not thugs in real life.

I hope you have enjoyed this journey down memory lane with me. Maybe tomorrow I will steal some pictures off facebook and you can see what my family looks like now.

When what you want is not really what you want

2011-11-20T18:53:00.000-08:00

I'd like to take this fine Sunday evening to talk about the negative revelation I get from God. By negative, I don't mean he tells me that I am an ugly-faced stinker, I mean the revelation in which he says, "No."

I get more "no's" than "yes's" and I think that makes sense. I'm more likely to give clear guidance to my daughter if she wants to go play in the street than if she is quietly reading a book or playing with her ponies. So it makes sense that my Heavenly Father would be most emphatic in his "no's." Mostly I get this negative revelation when I have firmly decided on a course of action. It happens sort of regularly but here are the clearest times in my life:

1. When I already had a slot in the Peace Corps to go teach bee-keeping in Africa and I was told no, I needed to go on a mission. By the way, the Peace Corps was pretty angry with me backing out. Not so peaceful in their use of language

2. When there was no way in this world I was going to let my husband join the army.

3. When I had decided we wouldn't have any more kids...at least not for a long time.

For all these things I got a "No" and the reasoning I understood from it was (and continues to be the same): "What you think you want is not really what you want."

Have you had this experience too? It's a little frightening. You do the best you can to figure out what you want in life. You look at the experience of others. You evaluate yourself to find what really makes you happy. You do some research. You pick your goals and you go after them...only to find out your choices are wrong. You've somehow forgotten that what you want in life is not to be happy, it's to be like Christ.

(Caveat: Okay, I know that man is to have joy,but by the way, joy and happiness are different. And Christ is definitely not happy all the time. We have lots of his sad moments in writing.)

I am grateful for each of the "no's" I have received. My life is better and I am a better person because of them. I hope I continue to receive them. Still, each time I get one it shakes me up a little. I hope to eventually be more like my mother who has spent more time in study and prayer than I have, and has a more open conversation with God. I think this makes his comments much less of a surprise to her than they are to me.

To conclude this slightly too introspective blog post, I am posting a poem about prayer I wrote as a freshman or sophomore in college, which I hope will let you forgive me for my weird use of the term "grapeshot."

Prayer

When you kneel

your prayers, clear and light,

sing forever upwards.

My words, like grapeshot,

shoot out in all directions.

Hitting the walls, they echo and reecho until

They bounce back around my ankles.

You say God speaks to you in warmth.

“Like cocoa on a cold night, like

stepping out of a shadow into the sun, or

the hot weight of a baby asleep against you.”

This heat, this rise in temperature, is God.

Sometimes you hear a voice like

pages being turned, like

someone calling you in a library

like your mother saying goodnight or

a flock of birds taking to flight in the next field over.”

Soft but so noticeable.

God, you say, is everywhere,

and he loves

everyone.

Your arms stretch as wide as your smile

encompassing not only me

and every other lost soul in the world

but also our coffee table, the houseplant,

and your box of Wheat Thins.

As for me,

I almost see God all the time.

Lurking in the corner of my eye he

unravels the soft curls of ferns

tears flowers open

pushes chicks out of eggs

and he is always in the wind.

When it blows, cold and thorough, sounding out each of your bones,

that's God.

I come to my knees,

like a gazelle to a water hole

terrified of hidden danger

but compelled to drink.

Every possible spiritual sensation

makes me jump

(was that God or a hiccup?).

And every so often

I squint through my eyelashes

to reassure myself there is no ambush,

no shower of gold waiting to make my life a calamity

of divine responsibility.

Tetris...oh, and some news

2011-11-19T17:24:00.000-08:00

So I spent a good hour or so today starting, measuring, and pricing car seats because (SPOILER ALERT) I am pregnant. I was actually planning on revealing this to my wide blog audience at the end of the month but I feel pregnant and tired and I have been thinking a lot about car seats and I think you should too.

So here's the deal about the car seats. We have a Corolla (Sport) and it is pretty cramped in the backseat but we don't want to get a new car because, by golly, we bought this one cash and we don't want to have to get out a loan if we don't need to. And it turns out you can you can fit three car seats in the back of a Corolla (according to the interweb) you just have to get the right car seats. FYI I think you all should know that despite the fact that we now have a steady income we are doing an awesome job of living the poor life to save our money. Nebraska will do that to you.

We already have three car seats (well, two carseats and a booster) so I went to Babie's R Us, or however you freaking misspell that store's name, and measured and juggled and I am pretty sure we need to buy the most expensive car seat in the store to make this work. $300 for a car seat. It's not that it is smaller, it's just that the base is smaller and the carseat doesn't widen until it's like two feet above the seat. I didn't try them out in the car because after all my calculations, I noticed that the store was super busy and there were no available staff to go out and watch me play Tetris. So I'll be going back some early week day morning.

FYI and unrelated to car seats, I want to be clear that I am excited to be having a baby. Who would not want a child with such excellent genes? We planned to have this baby, but only after getting kicked in the pants by Heavenly Father. Seriously, were it not for the eternal truth that Heavenly Father answers all prayers, we would definitely not have planned to get pregnant now. Maybe never again. Still. There is divine revelation, there is interaction between deity and mortals, angels speak to man, and as a result Lewis #3 is coming. Think about that, and be careful what you pray about.

Baby is coming in July. We'll have a Utahn, a Nebraskan, and a Bavarian.

Hooray for Grandparents!

2011-11-18T17:33:00.000-08:00

Man, Grandparents are so great. Trish was here a few weeks ago and my parents came today and my girls are in heaven.

So, when my parents showed up they gave me a bunch of pictures of me when I was a kid. Some of them are pretty classic. I was going to take some pictures of a few of them and upload them, but I can't find our camera and my parent's camera is being weird. So, here is a picture of me and the Soap-star that my mom took today.

Christmas Christmas Christmas!!!

2011-11-17T12:15:00.000-08:00

Man, I am super excited for Christmas. SO SO EXCITED! Our Christmas plans are uncertain because we are leaving to Germany so soon after Christmas and the Army definitely wants us to do a lot of stuff before we leave, but they won't tell us what until we have certain slips of paper. So we don't know when we will get to leave this state to visit family for Christmas, nor do we know when we will return.

Still, it doesn't matter because Christmas is terrific no matter what. I am excited to put up our tree and wreath right after Thanksgiving (don't mock me, it's perfectly awesome to do that). I have got some excellent present ideas this year. I am even doing well at figuring what to give myself (I relieved Chris of that responsibility last year). The only thing I regret about Christmas 2011 is that this awesome song no longer applies to us.

Man, I love Nebraska. Seriously, it is my favorite place to have lived. I'm not even joking. I should do a post on Nebraska.

True story

2011-11-16T18:39:00.000-08:00

Today, instead of eating lunch, I had eight Kit Kat bars. Word of Wisdom what? I would have had eight more for dinner but I didn't have anymore so I had leftover roast beef and veggies instead.

Best Husband Ever

2011-11-15T18:05:00.000-08:00

So the girls and I have been sick for...well, forever. Chris has been so awesome at taking care of INCREDIBLY GRUMPY little girls and of me. (Of course I haven't been grumpy. I have been an angel. A sweet, dying, phlegmy angel of kindness.) He's cooked and cleaned and made funny jokes and taken a lot of hits in the face from Jojo (seriously, that girl loves hitting too much).

Tomorrow he starts Army Reconnaissance Course (ARC) and he'll be gone a lot and we will miss him. Who will make us quesadillas? Who will buy us nice quacamole? Who will give us nice long hugs when we feel vomitous? Who will take us on fun outings to the Atlanta Art Museum or to watch raptor shows? By the way, having hawks and buzzard repeatedly skim your hair as they fly super close to your head makes you forget about being sick. (Also, I was really proud of how unafraid my little girls were of having large, dangerous birds swoop around them--proud and nervous. Why are they only afraid of non scary things?) (Also, FYI, Soapy loved the Art museum. Who would have thought a 3 year old would like an art museum? It kind of makes sense though, she loves colors and pictures and she's too little to be freaked out by all the naked people. Also, she really liked stomping loud on the hardwood floor. She also set off an alarm. Oh well.)

So, in conclusion--Chris is the best. We will miss him tomorrow.

Van Gogh and stuff

2011-11-14T17:40:00.000-08:00

Remember all you know about my shy high school self from my previous posts. Now, you should knowthat I was the most sought after babysitter in the ward for most of my high school years. I like to think this was because of my overall awesomeness with children. Seriously, before I had my own kids I was like the Pied Piper (not with rats but with kids). Now that I have my own kids I am still like the Pied Piper, but instead using sweet music to entrance children, I'm like the other story of the Pied Piper where he has an AK47 that he shoots over kids heads to try and get them to run away and leave him alone. And if he hits one, oh well. You remember that story.

Anyway, part of the reason I was a sought after babysitter was that I was awesome- for sure. Another reason was propbably that I had a lot of free time on my hands since I didn't really talk to people my own age. If I couldn't babysit for you, then I was probably babysitting for someone else. In retrospect I feel really sorry for all the parents who picked me up to babysit their kids. I was kind of hard to have a conversation with sometimes, uh all the time. My parents used to frequently say to me, "Penny for your thoughts, Anna." I always thought this was an awkward phrase and finally when I was home for college one Summer I asked my dad why they always said that. My dad laughed and said, "It's because you just stopped talking one day and we never had any idea what was going on in your head. It's better than saying 'TALK ANNA!'" So, I remember a lot of awkward silences going to and from jobs. Still these nice folks kept hiring me and a lot of them took great pains to help me against my will.

For example, the Evans family. At one point, I was very into photography and in fact, that was my first major in College. I almost went to Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT) because they emphasized their photography program. I applied there and got in and everything. I was sure it was a good school because I had heard of it before...although it turns out I hadn't. I'd heard of MIT and had gotten them confused. Seriously, I applied and almost went to RIT under a misconception. It's a wonder that anyone lives through their teenage years.

Anyway, my point. Oh yes. I took an awesome picture of the Evans kids and gave a copy to their parents. They really liked it and decided to help me in the artistic world. They did this in two ways. First they started getting me wedding gigs. They told people I had never met to hire me as their wedding photographer, and when I turned them down, feeling terrified, the Evans ignored me. Not rudely but they just insisted somehow, and suddenly I was a wedding photographer. Not a terrific one, I'll see if I can find some of the pictures I took and post them up here sometime (not tonight though). Still, I tried really hard.

It made me feel really cool and grown up to be a wedding photographer in high school. It was especially nice of the Evans to do this even after I sort of accidentally/on purpose poisoned their son. HE got better, but they told me not to do it again. That's another story.

So the other thing they did had a lasting impact on me. There was a HUGE Van Gogh exhibit in DC and the Evans bought me a ticket to go with them to see it with them. I turned them down because I would have to talk to them and I didn't like talking to people. Sister Evans frowned at me, and brought it up again later. I turned her down again. Finally when she dropped me at my house after babysitting she told me they would pick me up on Saturday and I should be ready. So I went. Against my will. And it was so awesome. I really think it changed my life. Seriously, I think differently after seeing that exhibit. It's not like I hadn't seen all those paintings in textbooks or as prints before, but I never realized how different it is to see them in real life. That was one of the greatest gifts I received during my high school years. After that exhibit I checked out tons and tons of books about Van Gogh's work and his life. I worked as a shelver in the library (kind of the ideal shy person job) and I would always try to shelve books in the art section so i could just put the books I wanted to take home on the second row of the shelving cart while I shelved the others. FYI, when you work at the library you don't get charged fines. Nice, no?

So, here are the Cliff Notes to this post in case you couldn't be bothered to read the whole thing:

The Evans are awesome. Van Gogh is life changing. I no longer like small children unless they share my genes.

Speaking of Chris's creativity...

2011-11-13T15:10:00.000-08:00

So here is a picture from of Chris's scriptures. I first saw this while he was missionary and it may very well be when I first started falling in love with him.

Coloring

2011-11-12T18:42:00.000-08:00

So, Chris was coloring with Soapy tonight. He showed me his work. Originally, this was a picture of Elmo giggling through his fingers. No longer.

It's pretty impressive.

A blast from my spiritual past

2011-11-11T18:56:00.000-08:00

I have mentioned before on this blog that I was a pretty shy kid growing up. I spent a lot of time in middle school and high school hoping people wouldn't talk to me. I was especially shy about talking about the Gospel. Mormons were very cool in my high school thanks to some good looking and socially amazing older kids in my ward. I actually think I got coolness points for being a Mormon, but that didn't mean I liked talking about it. After all, I had enough trouble carrying my end of a conversation about the weather. How was I supposed to share of defend my burgeoning beliefs about God and eternity? No way. I steered clear of any religious discussion.

So, with that in mind, here starts today's story of the first time I bore my testimony. It was against my will.

I was a sophomore and I think the math class I was in was called Integrated Math 2. I don't know exactly what we were supposed to be learning but we used our graphing calculators and things like sine and cosine stuff. If you can't tell by my awesome description I was a total failure at math in high school. Seriously, I tried but it baffled me.

Our teacher said that if we wanted we could do our classwork for the semester in a group. I never joined groups if I could help it. I wasn't planning on joining one this time, but inexplicably, from across the room, a girl and guy came over plopped themselves next to me, and told the teacher that we were a group. Emily was a cheerleader and Nick was a quarterback. I didn't know them at all. I was totally confused and incredibly anxious by this development. Seriously, it stressed me out.

In retrospect, I think they picked me because they mistakenly assumed I was smart. I seemed like one of the quiet, smart kids. I've always appreciated the assumption that if you are quiet it means you know something. Little did they know that my smartness was compartmentalized. I scraped by that class with a C. I'm pretty sure they failed or almost failed-- probably because htey were in my group. Oh well.

Anyway, one day in the middle of the semester we were sitting in our little group, fairly depressed. After getting three different answers eight different times we all made a silent agreement to give up for the day. I was looking at the clock when Emily suddenly turned to me and said, "Hey. You're Mormon aren't you?"

I stiffened, "Uh, yeah. I guess."

Emily went on, "So, like Jimmy, and Jason, and Megan go to the same church as you? You know them? And Tom Kohler? Do you know him?"

"I know them a little." I said. Tom was my brother.

"So, what do Mormons believe?"

Oh man, this was the one question I did not want to answer. "Oh you know, we're Christian."

She shook her head."No, I mean, I've heard about some guy. Smith. Some guy named Smith."

"Well, that's a long story." I protested. "And it's a boring story. Really boring."

"Please, tell me about this guy Smith."

"Maybe we should try number 3 again?"

"Please?"

I gave up. This was going to be a disaster. "Okay, fine. There was this boy named Joseph Smith. He was fourteen years old and he had a lot of questions about religions. He was confused about..."

Suddenly Emily interrupted. I swear her eyes were shining. "I'm fourteen years old and I have a lot of questions about religions!"

This annoyed me, "Look do you want to hear the story or not?"

She was quiet so I continued and told her the story of the first vision, that God and his son had appeared to fourteen year old boy because he had good questions and the courage to ask them. He wanted to know which church to join and they had told him that none had all the truth. They told him they were going to restore the true church to the earth, and they picked him to lead it.

When I finished, no one spoke. But it wasn't an awkward silence...it was nice. After a minute Emily said, "I don't know why, but I feel really good right now."

"Me too." I said. It was weird, I really was incredibly happy. Not laughing or giddy happy, but a weird sort of peaceful, full happy.

"Me too." Nick said. We'd forgotten about him.

Emily looked at me. "I really want to come to your church."

"Uh, well I'm going there on Sunday at ten. I guess you could come."

She arranged for me to pick her up. Nick volunteered that he couldn't but he would ask for another Mormon football player to take him to seminary.

Later that day, when I got home, my Mom asked me how my day went. I told her that I was really happy. Not just normal happy, but weird happy. I told my mom what had happened and she told me, or I guess I should say she taught me, that what I was feeling was joy. That when we share our testimony we are actually doing God's work and we get to feel the joy that comes with sharing his message of salvation.

I've been a missionary and I have a whole storage unit full of missionary stories. But this is the one I hold the dearest because I think it illustrates some important truths. Missionary work is not necessarily fun. In fact, I wouldn't use fun to describe any of my missionary work, though I am sure some people do have a lot of fun doing it. For me it is often awkward, hard, and painful. But for all that, there is this joy that fills me when I do it and lets me know that it is a really good thing. And that's why I do it.

A little bit crazy-angry

2011-11-10T17:11:00.000-08:00

I like to think that I am pretty level headed. I don't think I rush to conclusions, or get carried away by emotion. In fact, the more tense or emotional things get the more likely I am to try and change the subject or leave. But it turns out I have my buttons. There are a few subjects that can make me go a little crazy. And by crazy, I mean angry. It turns out that a lot of those buttons were pressed on my mission.

Here are the ones I know for sure about, though who knows what other ones lay beneath my seemingly calm exterior.

1. anti-feminist digs
2. teasing girls about weight gain
3. having my friends yelled at

Okay, so admittedly, number three is probably a button for most people. I had never had it happen to me before I went on my mission because my friends tend to be, well, totally awesome and therefore people don't usually yell at them. But Mormon missionaries aren't the favorites in Greece and we all got yelled at a lot. I didn't start getting angry about it until I really learned all the words they were saying. I didn't start yelling back until I was almost done with my mission. Anyway, it's pretty obvious that a missionary shouldn't be screaming at potential investigators so that's what I mean by crazy.

So number two hasn't happened since I stopped hanging out with boys in their teens. I feel there might be a misconception among insecure adolescent boys that telling girls, particularly girls that you like and intimidate you, that they are fat is a form of flirting. Has anyone else ever come across this? I had a bunch of friends in high school and on my mission fall victim to this. It's a weird thing that I think is just a result of not really knowing how to interact with someone you like. Maybe it's a form of trying to put someone down to make yourself feel better and at the same time get closer to them. I don't know. But it really gets to me. I threw a dictionary at a boy's head once for doing it. Honestly, I think I mostly just confused him. I don't think he realized what he had done.

Number 1 still gets me every time. Oh man, women's issues are huge for me. I am really sensitive to them and can get irrationally angry really fast. Now that I have two daughters it is even a bigger deal. The tiniest things can set me off. Back when I was in Sunday School and not in Primary I would sometimes have to say long prayers to have the spirit before I could make a comment after someone brought up some damaging folklore about our Heavenly Mother. Every time, EVERYTIME someone makes a joke disparaging women I have to take a deep breath and make sure I don't make a disproportional response. Just about all of them are done without hurtful intentions and my automatic response (pull out my machete and hack them to pieces) is rarely appropriate. Good grief, when I taught at BYU I gave one of my classes such a stern lecture on writing using non-sexist language that at least five mentioned it specifically in my teacher ratings (FYI the non-sexist language I talked to them about was that instead of just "he" or "she" you have to use "he or she" or pluralize it to "they" if it is not referring to a specific person. It doesn't seem like it should be a big deal...except it turns out it is to me.)

So there you go. If you are ever bored and you want to see what it is like for Anna Lewis to get foamy mouth mad go ahead and push one of those buttons. Probably a good idea to wear a helmet.

Red heads are more sensitive...for real

2011-11-09T16:19:00.000-08:00

So it turns out that people with red hair may feel more pain than the rest of us. My friend Liz Cramer linked to this article and I thought it was interesting enough to share with you all. Also, I have a lot of work to do before I go to sleep tonight so that's all you get.

Blast from the past

2011-11-08T16:35:00.001-08:00

I couldn't think what to write tonight, so I told Chris what I really wish is that I had one of my old journals from middle school in front of me so I could copy out an entry from it, but it's up in a box in our attic, and that is TOO much trouble for a blog post. Guess who immediately and cheerfully went up to go get it? All I have to say is that if marriage is a game, I won. And you are getting a journal entry.

Okay, so he didn't find the one from middle school,but here's a beauty from fifth grade.

This was in 1992.

I looked into a mirror today early in the morning and I saw a child's face of that ugly woman who is taller than her husband. Will I turn out like that? I hope not. I mean, at least let me be super plain, bu unliked, and everything, bu don't let me be kissing people all the time or giving them bear hugs that break their bones.

People say they like my hair. That's all they say. No nice hands. No nice looking face. NADA. I wonder why I got this hair? I would feel it's some thing that came from outerspace except for the tangles. They remind me of my room. Hello, on Saturday I'm going to clean my room. I hope I will do it throughly. In other words do the usual stuff then take the stuff on the dressers and put it in the drawers - I don't usually stick to jobs. I haven't cleaned my room in 2 weeks.

Also, for your viewing pleasure, here is a picture of me from kindergarten. The blond boy pictured directly below was a total jerk who used to color on my pictures.

Short scary conversation

2011-11-07T15:47:00.000-08:00

Me: Sophie, I'm going to give Jojo a bath. Do you want one too?

Sophie: No Mama, I am going to punch you in the face and then kill you.

Daylight Savings Time kicks our trash

2011-11-06T16:03:00.001-08:00

What a day. I don't do well with Daylight Savings Time. This one was especially bad. I suspect it was all the result of me convincing myself it was okay to stay up to 1 a.m. reading a book because really it was only 12:00 a.m. Not a good way to start a day guaranteed to mess with the girls nap times. Whatever, we survived. I'm bored of talking about Daylight Savings Time. I want to talk about what a fast reader I am. Because I am a fast reader. Super fast.

Last night at 10 p.m. I picked up a book that was 358 pages long and I finished it in 3 hours (well, two hours if you count the magic of Daylight Savings Time). That is fast, no? That's a little more than 119 pages an hour. It was a young adult novel, so I was going to count all the words on a page and compare them to an adult novel to see if there were less words, but I lost count around eighty and then I got bored. Which is kind of how I feel about writing a blog post tonight in general. I'm going to go put Sophie to bed and then go to sleep myself.

I dare you to read four poems.

2011-11-05T17:56:00.001-07:00

My friend Becky is having a Read Aloud event tonight (or it might have been yesterday--I'm pretty sure it was this weekend). It sounds like it's kind of like an open mike night with mostly poetry and some other stuff.

I graciously volunteered to supply her with some poems that I thought would be fun to be read aloud and she said, "Well, I guess that's okay." So you, lucky readers, will now get to see the few I selected for her. I picked them because I think they are fun and readily accessible to an audience. Some poems you have to study to get their awesomeness, and those do very poorly in a read aloud setting. So the ones I picked are easy to get from one out loud reading. Also, they are from top notch authors (with the exception of St.Vincent Millay who I think is considered not as serious as the others).

Hate poem by Julie Sheehan
I always presented this one to my BYU freshman on Valentine's day. It cracked them up.

Adam and Eve's Dog by Richard Garcia
This is funny and then awesome.

Archaic Torso of Apollo by Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Stephen Mitchell
This is my current favorite poem. When I first read it I thought, "Ugh. There is nothing more boring that a poem about a work of art. Especially when it's just of a torso of a statue. Lalalalala so boring." But then I got to the last line and that last line is killer. I should have expected it to be awesome because Rilke rocks everyone's socks off. Even though he's dead.

Intention to escape from him by Edna St. Vincent Millay This is a fun break up poem. My freshman girls really liked it. I memorized it my freshman year in preparation for my heart someday being broken. maybe if Chris ever leaves me we can all get together and wear all his extra berets (he won't take them because he'll have his Stetson) and read this poem while sipping nonalcoholic wine. I was going to say sparkling cider, but that doesn't seem so appropriate for the mood.

Chris graduated today!

2011-11-04T16:23:00.001-07:00

Hooray! Chris graduated from Armor Basic Officer Leaders Course (ABOLC). He did well enough to be on the Commandant's List (top 20% of his class) and got a shiny coin as an award. He also put his order in for his Stetson. Perhaps you are not aware that in the Army the formal headgear is a beret. I think it's hard for anyone these days to pull off a beret without looking weird, but I think it's especially hard for soldiers to do it because you'd think they'd be the most likely group to beat up anyone else for wearing a beret. Anyway, Chris is in Armor which is descended from the Calvary so he gets to wear a black Stetson which is waaaaaaay cooler than a beret.

They had a tank and a stryker that we could climb around in so we got some pictures. First of all, I thought the two fountains out front were going to be the highlight of the girl's day; however, I was mistaken.

This was Sophie's favorite part. The tank. She cried when we left it. Later at home she told me she missed her tank.

Here's a good picture of Jojo picking her nose by the Calvary statue.

I wasn't going to include this funky family photo, but we don't have a lot of them. So here are the Lewises in front of the Angel of Death.

As you can see, it's really called the Angel of Death.

Here is Soapy inside a Stryker, which is the vehicle that Chris will be in. Soapy is sitting right where Chris will be sitting. The screen above her is a thermal imager. It's really cool because the picture is made from heat that objects give off. It was really clear; I could see the fountains gushing water (note: I don't like the word "gushing.") It's really cool.

The rest of these pictures are from the stryker

We are super proud of Chris today!

Wasted Day

2011-11-03T18:40:00.000-07:00

So much for my self discipline. What a wasted day. I spent the entire morning reading a book and waving away little girls like gnats. Sometimes kids are a little like gnats because they won't go away unless you deal with them or outrun them, and if you leave something out (like raw meat) they get into it. Luckily they can't fly. That would be terrifying. Also, it would be terrifying if they crawled in your ear. We had a fun afternoon though, so hopefully they won't remember this morning and use it as an excuse for later becoming drug addicts or serial killers or something.

Speaking of little girls, I have often wistfully thought how terrific it would be to be able to send Soapy and Jojo to an all girls school when they got older. I figured it would be nice for them to have an environment where answering the teacher's questions wasn't only a "boy thing," and where science and math would be something that they could encounter with fewer gender related preconceptions. I mean, I wanted them to never think they weren't good at math because they were girls. I thought an all girl school would help with that. Becky R. just sent me a link to this Slate article, and it was pretty persuasive. I don't think I want my girls in an all girls school anymore...which is convenient because they are PRICEY.

Also, I have to say I was delighted with all of your responses. I don't know if I will use them, but it totally helped to have other ideas--I'll start writing that part this week so I'll let you know how it all plays out.

Daily blogging is cramping my style

2011-11-02T17:49:00.000-07:00

So, it turns out that as a thirty year old I am more disciplined that at any other time of my life. This makes me feel really awesome about myself, and really excited for the person I will become as I get older. Also it makes me pity anyone younger than me. (You little, undisciplined, lazy slobs. Don't cry, someday you will be like me.)

I just got a little embarrassed because, okay, if you know me you know there are a lot of areas that I am not disciplined in; however, I have come a long way. Compared to what I was, I am a superhero now.

The goals I am most proud of are exercising every day, and writing my book for an hour every night. Come on, that's impressive, right? Who has that kind of discipline? Me, that's who.

So here's my problem, daily blogging is cramping my style. I exercise with the girls in the morning, during their naps I do my University of Kleenex (Phoenix), and after they go down for bed at night I write my great American high school love story. And then I go to bed. I don't know where to fit in this blogging junk.

So I thought I'd use this for a little bit of research. I'm having a little trouble not finding corny solutions to one of my characters problems. Feel free to answer the question below and if you make fun of my plot I will kill you.

Let's say you are a devastatingly good looking high school boy and perhaps you have a sort of charismatic personality that makes everyone like you. You just moved to a new high school. The problem is, if you make friends it is likely that a lot of people will die. So, you know you have to ostracize yourself from all these people who want to be your friends. How would you make a whole high school hate you?

The Best Halloween Ever

2011-11-01T14:53:00.000-07:00

Who would have thought that Jojo would wear her costume the whole time...no complaining.

And Soapy is a princess...of course. (Though, last minute she begged to be a jaguar. Can you believe it Trish?)

Side note: an unexpected bonus to being married to Chris is that he gets progressively hotter every year.

It really was the best Halloween ever. There were pumpkins, there was candy, and there were two unbelievably excited little girls. Trick or Treating was soooo fun. We were out knocking on doors and I thought,"Wow! This is awesome! I could do this all night! I don't remember trick or treating being this fun. Is it more boring when you are younger?"

But then I remembered, I only went trick or treating once as a kid. I spent most of my elementary school days in Honduras. Halloween is not so big in countries where people don't have any money. One year, a few American families banded together to try and give us kids the real experience of Trick or Treating. We only visited the houses of other Americans who knew about the outing...or that was the plan. I don't know if we went to the wrong house, or if this American family had forgotten to tell their guards. (Note: In the area where the Americans and the wealthy lived everyone had guards.) So we came up to the gate, rang the bell, and sang out "Trick or Treat!!!" presenting our charming, costumed selves to the guards. At first they were confused by our costumes, but then they saw our little arms reaching out and they knew exactly what we were: beggars. That's when they started yelling curse words at us and brandishing their weapons, telling us to leave. I'm pretty sure they looked exactly like this:

Uh, except they were Honduran, not Somalian. And there may have been only two. And they may have not exactly pointed their guns at us. But that was the feeling my eight year old self got.

After bursting into tears, we got out of there as fast as we could. I guess the parents decided that was enough rick or treating for us because they took us back home after that. Happy Third World Country Halloween.

Anyway, this Halloween was tons better. Our next Halloween will be in Germany. Chris doesn't remember what trick or treating was like there, but I know some of you do. Is it as fun?

Nablopomo

2011-10-31T10:19:00.000-07:00

Okay, Bridget posted her clarion call for Nablopomo. So of course I am doing it. Who else is in?

In which I am awesome, not awesome, but eventually awesome again

2011-08-20T18:39:00.001-07:00

Awesome: I made six crock pot freezer meals in one blow. I was so excited for all the free time I would have when I wasn't making dinner.

Not awesome: I did not take into account that when you freeze a meal that is meant to be transferred into a crock pot, it needs to be frozen in a shape that fits in a crock pot. I thought I was being clever by freezing it flat so it would fit better in my freezer. I wasn't.

Awesome: I hacked that little stinker to pieces with my knife until it fit.

Not awesome: As it was cooking I decided to clean up the kitchen.I did the dishes and I noticed that my knife now looked like this:

That's right. The tip broke off. It was lurking somewhere in that barbecue chicken meal, waiting to rip my children's guts to ribbons. AAAAAaaaaaggghhhhhhh!

Awesome: After feeling angry, betrayed, frightened, frustrated, and finally peaceful I got the brilliant idea to search the whole meal with a magnet. If I didn't find it then I figured we would have to throw the whole thing out.

More Awesome: Look what I found! It was actually inside of a drumstick. INSIDE!

We ate, we were happy, and I saved absolutely no time by making that meal. I've learned my lesson. From now on we are eating Cheetos and Koolaid for dinner.

I am so famous

2011-03-25T08:52:00.000-07:00

Here are some links that talk about my play:

First, this is my actual play/thesis.

This article was in the Provo Herald. It has a picture.

This article was in the Salt Lake Tribune. You have to scroll to the bottom. The other play "The Plan" is my favorite LDS play ever. If you are in Provo right now, you should go see it.

This is from the Association of Mormon Letters. Mostly I love that my work is being included under the heading: Mormon literature in the 21st Century- Dawning of a Brighter Day. You'll have to scroll awhile to see find me.

This is also from the discussion board of AML. It's something my teacher posted in 2007.

And of course, how could we forget the Daily Universe, who published this article, full of typos and misquotes. Okay, only one misquote that I know of. I never said "Audiences will have a good time. They’ll laugh and maybe cry, and they’ll really think about what would Jesus really do." I hope no one cries at my play. That would be inappropriate and weird.

Here are some pictures of the cast.

And this is from A Motley Vision, which I think I already posted about, but I'm putting here to keep my collection together.

Feel free to start a fan club. And please don't ask me how many times I have Googled my name lately. It's pretty embarrassing. Luckily, whenever I think I am too awesome (The Daily Universe--swoon), Jojo blows her nose in my hair.

"brazen and possibly blasphemous"

2011-01-22T20:19:00.000-08:00

These are words from a mini review of my play script here

Exciting, no?

I am a liar

2010-11-30T19:25:00.000-08:00

I said this would be a good long post--after all it is the end of NABLOPOMO but it is almost 10:30 and I have not even started my Phoenix yet. Here is my update from Chris:

He had his first physical test today and he passed with flying colors. He got his all time best score. So, he was not kicked out, but eight other guys were. Four for not getting their security clearances in time and four for having the wrong waist to height ratio or getting lowish scores on the PT. Lucky for us Chris got his security clearance...though neither of us knows when that was done or even that it was required. But, that is good. Chris said that he got a memo saying that it is not unheard of for 39 candidates to get kicked out each cycle. That has got to be an extreme (right?), but still.

blahblah

2010-11-29T20:12:00.000-08:00

Hard to keep eyes open--no joke. Chris called. He says OCS is going well so far. He gets calls every evening. He passed the shake-down. Physical training tests are in two days. I'll write more tomorrow.

A deal

2010-11-27T12:11:00.001-08:00

Ok. I am only posting because we are packing up now and I am handing this laptop over to Chris soon. Hmm, I won't have a laptop tomorrow so I don't know how I will post. Anyway, here is what I have to offer: this link. It's a super deal on Melissa and Doug kid toys, which are pretty cool toys. Sophie really loves the train and the pegs you hammer.

Black Friday report

2010-11-26T19:44:00.000-08:00

Well, I definitely did not get up at 3 a.m. and go to Walmart. What a ridiculous idea. But I did go at about 9:00 and got everything I had planned on getting. There were stacks of the products I wanted. I would tell you what they were but they are Christmas presents.

Now I am going to hang out with my family.

Black Friday here I come

2010-11-25T18:01:00.000-08:00

I didn't expect to do anything with Black Friday this year, but our hotel is about a five minute walk from about a gazillion stores. So...I decided to check it out and now I am super excited. Trish, David, and perhaps Papa-G (he is still mulling it over) are coming with me...at 3 a.m. to Walmart. It will probably be a little miserable and a little triumphant. Hopefully we will not be trampled.

Also, at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow in Amazon's lightning deals you can get a Kindle 2.0 for $89. So... that's cool.

Happy Thanksgiving. We had an awesome hotel-Thanksgiving meal. It was really, really fun. The highlight was the cranberry sauce. AND we have so many leftovers including THREE PIES. Also, I just realized that my total involvement in Thanksgiving preparation and clean up was to ask Chris to bring the table from our room to the Lewises room. Awesome.

Favorite thing I learned today:

2010-11-24T19:10:00.000-08:00

My father-in-law combs his hair every night before he goes to sleep because it's uncomfortable to sleep on your hair weird. I think that is really cute.

p.s. My life is so awesome right now.

Must...post...

2010-11-23T19:27:00.000-08:00

Man, I am so tired that I am seeing double on the screen. The girls are doing great with the traveling and being in strange places: I think that this is totally due to my in laws helping out with them so much. The only thing they are having a hard time with is sleeping. They are waking up a lot so I am too. I I should take a nap but I onl have until Sunda!

Chris has officially graduated from Basic Training. Whoop Whoop! So far he has only had day passes. We have had to drop him off back at his barracks at 8:45 p.m. each night. But tomorrow he starts his four day pass so he can just hang out here until Sunday and he doesn't have to wear his uniform. Oh man, I can't type anymore. I will try to be more interesting tomorrow.

Hooray for today!

2010-11-22T19:36:00.000-08:00

This is right before we took him back to base for the night.

Mark is ruining my life

2010-11-21T17:37:00.000-08:00

He really is.

For that past two Thanksgivings we have had a beautiful tradition. Lisa, one of my awesome sisters-in-law has come to visit. But not this year. In fact, she didn't even TALK about coming this year. This is because of a certain monkey-head named Mark. I can't believe she is putting her fiance ahead of me and my happiness. I find this very insensitive.

I have full confidence that if she were not getting married next month she would be here in Georgia waiting to have Thanksgiving in a hotel room with us. This sweet-talker Mark just ruined Thanksgiving.

ALSO, here is another gripe against him: he has tons of nieces and nephews. Today, Lisa has three nieces. By January she will have, uh, a lot more. I don't know how many exactly. But, more than three. And what if, WHAT IF they have kids of their own!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!(Those exclamation points were for you, Katie.) That will ruin everything. How can I have her undivided attention then! How can my kids be the favorites (and Olivia of course).

The frosting on the cake of doom is that she is clearly upset about this. Take a look at this picture. This is the face of a sad girl.

Some call it love, I call it devastation.

So, Mark. Thanks for ruining Thanksgiving and therefore my life. We are family-enemies. Be on your guard.

Uh, also, welcome to the family. I'm sure you are very nice. Please don't hold it against me that I called you monkey-head.

On the road

2010-11-20T15:32:00.000-08:00

So, here we are in Charlotte, North Carolina after driving 6 hours with Soapstar, Jojo, Trish and David. Here is a brief report, in list form:

1. David drove the entire time and is an awesome driver. Also, the coolest 16 year old I have ever met.

2. The girls were better behaved than they have ever been in the car in their entire lives.

3. I like Trish's trail mix, even though I am actually a snob to trail mix.

4. Jojo can drink out of a sippy cup like a pro; she even holds the cup.

5. More and more I enjoy listening to Trish talk--I try to think of subjects that she has a lot to say about so that she will talk more, and longer. I think it is because she and Chris talk in very similar ways sometimes and I miss listening to him talk.

6. Now I am going to sign off and hook this laptop up to the hotel TV so we can watch a movie on Netflix. Hooray for roadtrips!

Not Sissy

2010-11-19T18:41:00.000-08:00

Yesterday's post = sissy. My sister in law's two blog posts here = not sissy.

Ten minute phone calls

2010-11-18T19:30:00.000-08:00

So I had my third 10 minute phone call with Chris today. I knew it was coming because his commander's wife posts on Facebook when she finds out about each call. Each time, I get so excited. My measurement of time which is usually hours to naps of bedtime becomes hours till he calls.

But, just so you know, ten minute phone calls are the worst. Or I guess they aren't the worst. They are pretty fun until suddenly he says, "Oh, I have one minute left." What do you say after that? All you are both thinking about is the end. You can try to start another topic, but you'll just get cut off and that is tragic and unsatisfying. You can say goodbye right then but then you are wasting that minute, and you only have 10! Then after the phone call you just feel lousy because, first of all, you spent some of that precious time talking about hangers. Hangers! Like the kind you put clothes on. What?! And second of all, ten minutes is not long enough to feel connected to someone you love, it's just long enough to remind you that you are lonely.

Man, the Army and I are not really friends right now. We're kind of enemies. And having the US ARMY as your enemy is not a good feeling. Whatever. I have my strategery. Army, I am not afraid of you.

You'll be happy to know that though my phone is not able to make calls, it is able to receive calls.

An expensive load of laundry

2010-11-17T18:49:00.000-08:00

I washed my phone today. It was in the pocket of my jeans and I ran it through the wash. I thought I was being so efficient as I did laundry. I was going to have the girls all packed up tonight for our trip this Saturday so I was multitasking like a villain. Well the girls aren't packed up and my phone has gone the way of all the world.

I feel a new bond with David (Ipod touch and the waterfall) and my good friend Jessi (accidentally dropped her phone into a cement mixer...what?).

My phone actually works a little still. Water has seeped into the screen and sometimes the buttons work and sometimes they don't. If I want to do anything I have to first turn off the phone and then turn it on again and it has to be plugged into the wall to work at all.

It's a pretty bad time for it to happen too. I am leaving the state on Saturday for ten days and I kind of need a phone. The good news is that 30 bucks later I will have a new phone by Friday with the same number.

A steal of a deal at twice the price!

2010-11-16T20:15:00.001-08:00

Man, I love getting sweet deals. It makes me so happy. It's a little silly. I feel like I am shaking my fist in the face of the free market yelling, "I will decide how much my goods are worth, not you! I am captain of my own consumer soul!" Whenever I get a good deal I feel like I am sticking it to the man.

So tonight, I high-tailed it to Target and completed this deal. I got three pajama shirts for a whopping $1 total. In case you are not in possesion of street fighting mathematics, that is 33 cents a shirt. I am the king of the world. I am wearing one right now and I look fiiiiiine. Too bad no one is here to see me because everyone else in this house goes to bed at 8:00. *sigh*

Speaking of awesome deals: ALDI. My in-laws have been praising it for some time now, and I have to say, it rocks my socks off. It is my all time favorite grocery store now. My only beef is that they have no customer service. They don't even list their numbers in the phone book. They don't want you to call. I'm not making this up, they told me that in the store. That's how they offer such good prices. So if you want to know if the 80 piece Avta train set for $20 has come in yet because you know your daughter would love it for Christmas, you have to drive back to check. By the way, it wasn't. And I think the sale was over today. Maybe Soapy will just get 33 cent pajama t-shirt to grow into for Christmas.

Follow up on backwards scooting baby

2010-11-15T17:57:00.001-08:00

She often gets stuck here.

Also, here's a video that I forgot to load on my family blog.

Angry Feminists

2010-11-14T18:04:00.000-08:00

So, I kind of want to talk about feminism, but sometimes it makes me so tired. I'm a feminist, I really am. I am so proud of all the women in the distant and not so distant past that worked so hard for the rights I enjoy today. I know that there is still stuff to fight for and ways that women are dismissed and untruths that are still being spread in society about women. But I hate hate hate how it ends up making me feel. Because it makes me angry. And the people who are fighting are angry too, and so I kind of avoid hanging out with them for too long. I think I hate feeling angry more than almost anything. I would always rather feel sad than angry. Anger makes me feel out of control and completely unlike myself. When I stop being angry I feel like I was a little possessed.

It seems that every group that has ever fought for equal rights has a great deal of anger motivating them. I mean, just think about the revolutionary war, the civil war, civil rights, women's rights... Although they all said they were fighting for something, they were also furiously fighting against something and you gotta believe that there was tons of anger as motivation. How can so much good come from so much anger? I don't really know how that works.

I remember in some psychology class learning that anger is a secondary emotion. You never feel anger at first; it's always a reaction to something else you feel. Like when you stub your toe and you get angry. You don't feel angry because you stubbed your toe, you feel angry because you first felt surprised and hurt. Or like when you get angry after someone teases you about having to go to gym class in Germany in your underwear because you forgot your gym clothes at home. You first feel embarrassed and then you feel angry because of the embarrassment. I don't know exactly how that factors in to the whole angry feminists/any type of protesters, but I thought it was worth mentioning.

In conclusion: I am a feminist who does not like being angry. I think without angry feminists I would be wearing a burka. Well not a burka, but I might not know how to read and write and I wouldn't be able to vote or wear pants. Hooray for angry feminists, boo for anger.

A week from today...

2010-11-13T18:52:00.000-08:00

..we will leave to see Chris! I am so excited. I think about ten million times during the day.

Okay, here is a concern I have. I am noticing that I am getting a lot of emails from friends/acquaintences who have had their emails hacked into. They are always the same, I open the email and it's just a random URL instead of a message. Is it just me or this this happening way more often than it used to happen? I mean, it is seriously almost everyday I get a new one. I generally get an apology soon after from the real email owner. How are their emails getting stolen? What should I do to prevent this? Mostly, I am hoping someone will find out and tell me as a comment because I am too lazy to look it up on my own.

Also, Jojo can pick up and eat Cheerios now and scoot backwards. What a hero.

A good day

2010-11-12T17:41:00.000-08:00

I am 100% satisfied with my activity today. I made a plan. It was a good and balanced plan. I stuck to it. It is 8:45 p.m. and everything on my list is done and I am...happy. This is a good feeling. Such a good feeling.

I hope you all had good days too, or at least that tomorrow will be better.

The Wild

2010-11-11T18:00:00.000-08:00

My parents live in the middle of nowhere. The local library is called, not after the town, not after a famous person from the area but instead, Wilderness Library. That should give you some idea of how far out in the boonies we are. They have a house and a lawn, but it is not the lawn that you might typically think of. Their lawn, and the lawn of everyone else out here, is just forest that has some grass growing on it. It really feels like we are living in the woods.

After my first few weeks here I realized that not only are we living sort of in the wild (uh, except with indoor plumbing and a widescreen tv of course), but the wild sees us as temporary, not permanent. Outside things keep trying to preemptively dominate my space. And by wild things, I mean bugs and spiders.

Look, I have lived in many a basement apartment. I am no stranger to bugs. I am cool with spiders. But seriously, there is a limit to the access they can have to my stuff. A first it was kind of funny. I left my stroller out overnight, the next morning the bonus was all the cookie crumbs were gone. The not-so-bonus was that there were a bunch of squash bugs or something I had to scoop out. Not a big deal. But there were three spider webs in the stroller. Spiders? You are setting up house after just one night? I have not abandoned this stroller. It has not been 12 hours. The presumption. Kind of funny, but not a problem.

Then I start noticing that even if I have been to the park the day before, there are spider webs on the entries to the slides, and on the bridges. I start thinking. Whoa. These spiders are crazy. The stroller? And now the playgrounds? What are they trying to catch anyway?

The final straw was when I was at the playground helping Soapy up a ladder or something and Jojo starts to stir. I go to get her and find a spider web of course. It was connected from the sippy cup in the cup holder, to her head. TO HER HEAD!

Uh, Jojo is waking up right now so. That's all for tonight. In conclusion it is now winter and this isn't an issue anymore.

Snobbery--a bragalog

2010-11-10T19:00:00.000-08:00

I think it's important every so often to acknowledge when you are a snob about something. By snob, I mean when you don't like something because you feel it is beneath you. Sometimes we hide our snobbery by pretending there are other reasons for not liking it, but deep down, there aren't. Everyone is a snob about something. Probably, many things.

Let me give you some examples. I used to be a snob about turtlenecks. No reason for it, really. They were beneath me.But now I have one (well sort of. It's not a real turtleneck. It's not even a mock turtleneck. It's something else, like a mock-mock turtleneck {that sounds like a bird name, or a failed dance move})

Chris used to be a snob about brown sugar. He only liked brand name brown sugar. I am proud to say that he had some moments of self reflection and now he no longer worries about what brand he sprinkles on his oatmeal.

I think it's important to know what you are a snob about, even if you don't change your ways. It's important to know why you dislike or like something, even if it's not a good reason. I am a snob to Burberry scarves. They're just beneath me, that's all. (FYI, I respect all people who like Burberry scarves. Feel free to be a snob to me for that comment. Especially when you look at my everyday wardrobe and wonder how I can possibly feel that I can be a snob to any clothing.)

Anyway, I would like to congratulate myself now on things I an NOT a snob about.

I am not a grammar snob. I think that is clear from reading my posts. I don't consider grammar and usage to be super important. Here is why that is cool and not ignorant: I teach grammar and usage. I've taken editing classes. I have plenty of history/education to make me a snob. I have a Chicago Manual Style that I regularly consult (well, it's in Nebraska right now, but I did consult it). I like to talk about obscure punctuation problems. However, when I read any written work by another person (unless I'm grading)I ignore problems. Unless it is for a professional purpose I rarely edit my work carefully. I think this is awesome. I think this trait is a microcosm for the type of person I would like to be. I would like to be someone who concentrates on the message rather than the delivery.

I am not a book snob. I was a book snob. I am no longer. I disagree with books. Sometimes they make me angry (Atlas Shrugged) or sad(The History of Love) or frightened (some story I read about giant blood-thirsty seagulls). But I am not a snob to books. I don't judge a book because everyone has read it (Harry Potter), it is full of passion in prison (Twilight), written for children (Fablehaven) or even if it is reportedly full of bad writing. It turns out that even people who are poor at writing may have important or interesting things to say. It turns out that I read not only to better myself, but also as an escape or to be entertained. I realized I was snobby to books that I would never be snobby to as movies. Reading is better than watching TV. So I gave up my snobbery. Interestingly enough though, I am now a snob to book snobs. Feel free to admit in the comments that you are a book snob to me so I can turn up my virtual nose at you.

Bedtime.

Adjectives

2010-11-09T18:24:00.000-08:00

So my 2 year old has started using adjectives a lot. It's amazing how useful they are. In my creative writing clases and in my technical writing classes adjectives were always kind of looked down on. It turns out that adjectives should be used very sparingly, especially in poetry. I constantly revised my work and threw out adjectives. Adjectives equaled laziness and redundancy.

But now that Soapy can use them life is awesome. I think part of the reason for this is that she uses them honestly. Instead of a garnish to an idea they are the whole idea. In fact, she tens to omit the words they modify which makes them more meaningful. It's not a big truck it's just "Biiiig!"

Here are her favorite ones:

silly, happy, sad, fun, cute, all the colors, big, and, baby (this is the opposite of big).

She likes the colors. Now that she has words for colors she talks about them all the time. She loves horses, but the color of a horse is as important to her as the horsiness of the horse. I think I kind of remember this as a kid, the importance of colors, when it really mattered what color your toothbrush was.

My favorite adjective of hers is "fun." She uses it after an event, kind of like a closer. She'll say, "Fun, Mama?" and I'll nod and she'll laugh and say, "Fun! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

It cracks me up every time. The other day I decided to take them to the park. It was really cold so I bundled them up despite ear-splitting protests of "NO SWEATER" or when I got the baby ready "MY SWEATER!NO BABY!" We finally got to the park but Soapy was too cold to play and ended up crying as I half carried/half dragged her and the car seat back to the car. Soapy took turns whining and crying expect for a few seconds of concentrated silence when she blew her nose on my shoulder. Anyway, I got them buckled in, got in the front and started driving thinking what a miserable idea this had been when suddenly I hear this little, upbeat voice. "Fun,Mama?" I laughed a little incredulously, and I guess she decided that was confirmation because she said, "Yay! Park fun! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" It 's awesome because in her mind, that trip was a wild success, and since the trip was all for her anyway that means the trip was a wild success. This is extremely gratifying. Also, it gives me hope she will have a happy life.

Follow-up

2010-11-08T17:42:00.000-08:00

The brown stuff is brownie batter.

Also, a bit later we were playing with play dough and I made this little man who was supposed to be charming but ended up being a little creepy. Here he is:

Here is what Soapy thought of him:

Dental hygiene and vomit---but not together.

2010-11-07T16:53:00.000-08:00

So I have basically stopped using coupons since we left Nebraska. Everything is just too far away. But every once in a while I see some deal that is too good to pass up. That is how I ended up with two of these beauties yesterday.

I got 'em for free and frankly I am pretty delighted. I have never had or even used a battery operated toothbrush before so I figured it would be awesome. I thought my teeth would feel ultra-clean. And, actually, they really did feel cleaner than usual after I brushed with Cinderella.

(FYI the Little Mermaid was also available, but I felt her outfit was too scandalous to have her as a role model for Soapy in the bathroom.)

Here is what I would like to say about electric toothbrushes after my one experience: they are cool but they also give me nasty dentist flashbacks . It's the vibrating pressure that is a little nauseating to me. I actually couldn't bring myself to use it this morning; I had to go back to my primitive, cave-man, manual toothbrush. I still haven't decided whether or not to use it tonight. Sorry to leave you in suspense about that.

I have, however, decided to let Soapy use the other one because a) I do not think that Chris would like me to mail it to him in basic training (which ends in a little over two weeks whoop whoop!) and b) I think it will prepare her for her first dentist visit.

Oh, and I guess maybe the one kid in the house should use one of the kid toothbrushes. Whatever.

Okay, here are a few reasons I love living at home with my parents just from today:

1. My mom made cinnamon rolls for breakfast. Ahhhhh

2. When I pulled into church and Soapy vomited all over our sweet Corolla of victory my parents took care of Jojo while I cleaned up Soapy and then my Mom cleaned up the pukey carseat while I tried to get the girls to stop crying. I would have had to drive a half hour home with out them there. Thank goodness for the parents.

(Note on this, I actually had extra clothes for Soapy to wear...minus socks and shoes. So that was almost great preparation. Also, I thought I had brought a clean shirt but it was actually a filthy shirt with ketchup stains on it. Chunky ketchup stains. With her perpetual runny nose, her gross shirt, and her lack of any footwear at all in November, she looked a little Appalachian-American. I suppose the gap in her teeth only added to the situation. Also, she and I and the Corolla smelled a bit like cinnamon rolls all day.)

3. Here is one last thing that is something that I am constantly grateful for: every night when I put Jojo to bed, my Mom always does stuff with Soapy so the little villain doesn't come in and scream in Jojo's ear while she is getting drowsy. that may not seem like a big deal, but it's a big deal.

In summary: toothbrushes and living at home are awesome.

2010-11-06T20:25:00.000-07:00

Well, my break is over. It's 11:25 p.m. and I just finished setting up my two new online classes. Let's see, let's go back to my late night conversation with my mom. I asked her if she had to raise us five kids all over again, what she would do differently.

Her answers were pretty helpful. She was/is an awesome mom (after all, look at me, her greatest achievement:)She had some interesting things to say about structure and discipline that I am now thinking about.

I have to go to bed now because I am seeing double, but if you are feeling up to commenting I would like to know either a) things you would do differently as a parent now or b) things that you plan on doing as a parent that I might find useful. If you are wondering what to put on your blog for NABLOPOMO this would be a good prompt.

Also, Lisa, I want you to know that even though you have missed a day I still respect you, and you can still come back. :)

A story

2010-11-05T20:04:00.000-07:00

So the reason I am posting so late is that I was talking with my Mom. Every time we have a real conversation it goes way too long so tonight we decided to not have them any more. They're fun but we both need more sleep.

Anyway, in her honor I am posting an awesome story she told me a while ago. She heard the story from a coworker and her coworker heard it from the mother of the story herself so...those are the degrees of separation between you and the source of the story.

Ahem.

A woman and man from Texas have an adult son with Down Syndrome. He's very high functioning and very independent. Knowing this, the couple decided to go on vacation to Virginia and leave him alone. They were a little nervous, but decided that their son was competent and it would be okay.

They called him when they arrived in Virginia and he was incredibly excited. "Guess what!" He told his parents, "I caught a troll!"

The parents immediately changed their tickets and came home. They asked where the troll was now. The son said he had locked him in the guest room. They opened the door and found a real dwarf, who also happened to be a census worker. The parents said that the worker, despite being in their for over a day, was incredibly understanding about the whole situation.

The end.

One reason to move in with your parents

2010-11-04T20:20:00.000-07:00

1. In case it is late at night and you decide to watch a detective/homicide show, and after it's over you realize you are in a creaky house all by yourself with your two defenseless daughters.

Unfortunately parents are out tonight. At least my dad told me where he keeps the guns.

This is my week off

2010-11-03T17:31:00.000-07:00

I teach an online grammar class for the University of Phoenix. I just finished two classes and I start two more on Monday. So this is my week off. Tonight I plan to celebrate it by eating a big piece of my Mom's birthday cake (oh yeah, happy birthday Mom) while I watch a romantic comedy my parents got in the mail today. I don't know what the title is and I don't even care. I will also probably write a letter to Chris, in boot camp, telling him all about how I'm eating cake with strawberries while he's most likely doing pushups. Heh heh.

I just got a letter from him today and he said that one of the other soldiers who he's buddies with asked him what his favorite part was so far. He thought about it and said that actually, he didn't have a favorite part because it is all so miserable. I hope all you who are considering joining the military take that to heart and consider being taxidermists instead. You still deal with a lot of the same issues.

He did say, however, that he gets to throw a live grenade tomorrow and that might be his favorite pard. Whatever. I could make that in my basement and we could throw it here.

(note: Big Brother, I do not actually know how to make grenades. I was just trying to be funny.)

I don't know why I am still typing. I could be watching my movie. In fact, I'll go right

Ballet/Tap

2010-11-02T17:29:00.000-07:00

I took Soapy to her first ever dance class tonight. It was a ballet/tap class for 2-3 year olds. The idea of a ballet/tap class is kind of interesting in and of itself. How do you combine those two? Tapping tutus? I actually wanted to get her in a tumbling class. She is pretty awesome at throwing herself down on the floor and howling, and I figured that is how tumbling starts...minus the howling. But for 2 year olds they only had this class. The first session is free so we decided to check it out.

I really tried to be ready on time. I did her hair, wiped her face,and changed her into what I felt were the most dance appropriate clothing she had. But we got there a couple minutes late. Soapy pulled her hair band off and was devoted to wearing her floppy sun hat. She had also found a cracker in the car to smear over her face. Her nose had run and dried into crustiness, but was running again, so it was collecting in a way that kind of reminds me of how stalagmites and stalactites form. Also, the dance appropriate clothing she was wearing were her yoga pants. A good choice for comfort but these pants kind of have an attitude.

There were two other girls in her class. They looked almost four, a good head taller than Sophie. They were twins, one in pink and one in purple leotards, tights, and tutus. They looked like the girls you imagine take ballet, kind of professional.

This picture doesn't reflect what they looked like, but it does reflect the feeling I got from them:

And here is the feeling that Soapy was kind of projecting...

Except she wasn't wearing a tutu, she was wearing these exact pants...

(a caveat: Soapy was easily the most beautiful kid there. She is in fact the most beautiful 2 year old kid in the world. The above comments should not make any reader think otherwise. She just looked like a fish out of water.)

She had an awesome time in the class. She cried when we had to leave. The teacher came out afterward and said she thought Soapy might be a little young, but you can't tell after the first class, and especially not compared to the 3 year old twin primadonnas. So she said Sophie could come to the next three classes for free, and that Saturday classes might be better because she had some two year olds in that class.

I really wish I could have watched her. Apparently they have the girls hold balls and hula hoops to learn the arm positions. They also have little, flat, rubber circles they put on the floor to teach the girls...something. Anyway, I have been working hard at teaching Soapy to kick balls, and there are spots on the floor in the local CVS that Soapy loves to pick up and rearrange so I can just imagine how Soapy would respond to those props.

I really liked the little studio. It was tiny and there were girls of all ages hanging around. They all knew each other and I shamelessly eavesdropped to them talking amongst each other. They were good girls and I liked to think of my daughter hanging around a place like this, learning physical discipline, and sweet moves. I think she is a little young; I don't think we'll sign her up for more classes. But I do think that when she is three or four we will get her in some kind of class like this.

NABLOPOMOMYGOODNESS!

2010-11-01T17:45:00.000-07:00

That's right. It's November 1st. That means it's the first day of NABLOPOMO or National Blog Posting Month. This is my first blog post. Not too shabby. I invite all two people who read this blog to join me if you like.

I have a few things I know I am going to talk about, for instance, moving back in with my parents, hanging out with the inlaws without a spouse, and how good looking I have become. I figure these are good topics to hook my readers. But since Thanksgiving is coming up, I thought I should include things I am thankful for so today I would just like to tell you how grateful I am for our GPS.

Seriously, so grateful.

It's a Garmin Nuvi something-something and I love it. I love it for all the reasons you think someone would love a GPS. I love not getting lost. I love knowing what the speed limit is all the time. I love knowing to the minute when I will arrive somewhere. I love being able to see how much, or how little, difference speeding actually makes on my arrival time. Turns out, it doesn't make that much of a difference (or maybe I just don't speed fast enough).

I also love it for reasons that I would never have guessed. I love it for sometimes being the only other adult voice I hear for hours. Before he left, Chris programmed the GPS to be an Australian woman's voice so it's actually pretty annoying. But this is also good because when things get stressful in the car I find myself growing angry at this nasally, australian snob instead of my two little screaming-bloody-murder girls. She (the GPS) is a good deflector of my frustration, and it turns out she is a good example because she never loses her temper. She just takes a moment and then recalculates.

Well, that is all I have to say about my GPS. This may not be the most riveting post, but it is a post. I am beginning to think that brilliance is not nearly as important as perserverance. In fact, I think perserverance, endurance, never-giving-upness, whatever you call it, probably trumps brilliance every time. Just now I was goint to expound on this idea to how I think it relates to the different philosophies held by God and Satan, but...it's not that kind of post. This is just an I-love-my-GPS post.

I am STILL awesome!

2010-07-27T14:59:00.000-07:00

Hello faithful fans!

Here is my awesome two part news:

1. Remember my play/master's thesis? It is going to be produced! You can go watch my play in January! Well, you can watch it if you go to Provo, Utah. New Play Project is going to put it on. Feel free to read my name on their website here. You should also notice that the name Eric Samuelsen is on that web site. He was one of my professors at BYU, in fact he was on my Thesis committee. His writing is brilliant. Kind of,it knocks my socks off that we are both have plays put on at the same theater--though the truth is, he could have his plays put on wherever he wants and is just a big fan of New Play Project. Still, how cool is it to be listed with Eric Samuelsen? Too cool.

2. One of the directors wants to make it into a movie! I get to write it into a screenplay (I don't exactly know how to do that but he kindly sent some stuff to read about the process so...how hard can it be?) and he starts filming in August. It's going to be a low budget ($5000) film. I am super excited.

I rock.

2010-01-28T19:58:00.000-08:00

I have finished my first quilt ever. It's for my newest niece, Brooklyn. She's over a month old now so it's a little late but...whatever. I'm a hero because I couldn't even sew before I made this. Seriously, I didn't know how to thread a sewing machine and I had to watch a bunch of Youtube videos to figure out how to slip-stitch. It looks awesome from a distance.

I took some pictures for you so that you could admire my mad skills.

Here is a picture of the front that Chris thought would be funny to ruin. Sniff.

Here is the front without any distractions:

Ahem, please note that I sewed her name into the border.

Here is the back:

It looks SO BEAUTIFUL from a distance. But when you get up close... heh heh, well it resembles Frankenstein stitches. I tried to take a picture of it but you can't see how tragic the back looks so well. I mean, I know this picture is not so flattering of my stitches, but I promise the real one is much worse.

Still, I am super proud. Hooray for me! I am awesome.

4:30 Christmas morning

2009-12-25T02:37:00.000-08:00

My grandpa died a few weeks ago. I've been thinking about him a lot. It's about four-thirty Christmas morning and I can't sleep so I thought I would write a bit about him.

Except, not really about him. I was actually not around him for most of his life. I guess I'm not really qualified to tell you about him. I mean, I have some facts but as I lay in bed not sleeping I realized that the totality of what I know from first hand experience about my grandfather only reveals how much I don't know him. I don't mean to say he was a stranger to me--he wasn't. Not at all. But I know him best through my father's stories. It is strange to think that even though he has only been gone a little while he has been a legend to me since I was small. I guess this is what happens when families live far away from each other.

So please forgive me if I write about my Grandpa by telling you a story about myself that he liked. I told it to him at Tom's wedding a few years ago and he laughed so hard. He and my brother Matt are some of my favorite people to make laugh. It feels like a triumph. Anyway, I ended up telling that story about five times that weekend. Grandpa kept pulling people over and telling me to tell it to them too. So, I'm going to write it down now.

I was in college. I was in my third year I think. It was winter and I had an intense crush on this boy named James. I thought he was brilliant and poetic. We were friends and would sometimes walk home together. This happened more often than not when I casually waited outside his office until he finished work then "bumped" into him. Man, crushes are so embarrassing.

Anyway, since I lived on his way home sometimes he stopped by my house and had some dinner with me (turkey and cheese sandwiches dipped in barbecue sauce. I really liked this meal for about six months). Finally I got up the courage to invite him and his apartment of roommates over to my house to play some games and eat treats. He said yes.

I was thrilled. I felt like he had basically confessed his undying love for me by agreeing. That day was wonderful.

However, as the evening we had decided on approached I began to have doubts. What if he forgot? Should I call and remind him? What if he remembered but didn't want to come? What if he just said yes to avoid the angry retribution of a stalker? I grew more and more anxious.

About an hour before he and his roommates were to come over I was in despair. My roommates were primping in their rooms (boys were coming over!) but I listlessly moved around the house telling myself he wasn't coming and that I didn't really care. It was snowing and I just knew that if he had remembered and had been planning on coming, he probably wouldn't because of the snow.

Then, out of the blue, my mom called. I told her that I had invited the most awesome boy ever over and that he wasn't coming. That he was standing me up. She asked if he was already late and I said that no, he had about ten minutes to get there but I KNEW. She asked me for a history of our relationship so I told her (it didn't take long, stalker-crush relationships are remarkably easy to sum up).

"So anyway, Mom. That's it. And now he's not coming. And I'm so sad."

My mother's voice on the other end of the line was confident, "No, Anna. He is going to come. I am positive he's going to come. But you are at a very delicate part of your relationship right now. Do you really want this to go somewhere?"

"What well, yes I do, but..."

"Ok." She took a breath. "Then you have to do exactly what I say. Are you listening?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Now do this exactly. As soon as he sits down, sit down right next to him. DON'T let some other girl take your spot. Then, at some point tonight, probably best if it's right after he tells a joke, you put your hand on his knee. And you squeeze it."

"What?"

"Anna, it's time for the knee squeeze."

"Mom, you want me to reach out and grab this guy's leg?"

"Yes. You've got to promise me you'll do this. It's the only way."

"Mom. You're crazy and he's not even coming so it doesn't even matter."

We hung up right after that and a couple minutes later there was a knock on the door. It was James and his roommates. I forgot all about my mother, I was so delighted and nervous I couldn't open the door at first. We spent the first little while in the kitchen standing around and eating cookies or something and then we went to the living room to play games.

I was worried about the lack of chairs/couch space so I sat down on the floor. James sat down right next to me. We started playing some game. I said something funny and James laughed and then...he put his hand on my knee and squeezed it.

I couldn't believe it. For a second I couldn't move. Then I looked at my knee and his hand. Finally I looked up and burst out laughing right in his face. It was loud. I believe there may have been a snort or two. He quickly removed his hand. There was an awkward silence as soon as my laughter was killed by my embarrassment.

Needless to say, nothing further happened with James. If there had been something, I effectively killed it that night with my insensitive response to the romantically loaded knee squeeze.

(To be fair, although it makes for a less dramatic story, it was also effectively killed a few days later when James dreamily told me that he liked to describe his eyes as "blue with flecks of gold." Who says that?)

That story cracked up my Grandpa. Every time I saw him after that he would bring it up. It might be casually asking me if I saw anyone in the room I thought worth a knee-squeeze. After I married Chris he asked if I had finally gotten the knee squeeze timing right (answer: yes).

I love my Grandpa. I wish I had visited him before he died. I don't mean once he got sick. I mean earlier. I wish I had visited him before there were big and heavy things going on.

Let's see if I can sleep now.

NABLOPOMONOMORE!!!!!

2009-11-30T18:51:00.000-08:00

Oh hooray! I won't have to post every day anymore. This stopped being fun when Thanksgiving happened.

So, what to tell you today...

Okay. Here is another bragalog.

I had a lot of cavities as a little kid (this is not the bragalog part). I just didn't brush my teeth. That's all there is to it.

However, when I went to go get them filled I freaked out because I was so terrified of needles (note: I am not longer afraid of needles. I am so blase about needles.) We were living in Honduras so I couldn't have been more than nine years old at the time.

I was crying and trembling and so insistent that the dentist could give me fillings without Novocaine that finally, in frustration, he said ok. He said when it hurt too much for me to stand then I should tell him and he would give me the Novocaine.

But I was one stubborn and frightened kid. It hurt so much but I was convinced that a shot would hurt more so I got my fillings without Novocaine. I don't remember how many, but it was more than one. I do remember holding my mouth open and having so many tears running down my cheeks that my shirt collar was soaked. Afterward, the dentist looked as traumatized as me.

Years later I had to get another filling, and I got Novocaine. Man, I was a dumb kid sometimes. Still, that is pretty hard core. This may also be a lesson on why you shouldn't go to a dentist in a third world country.

A baby a baby!!!!!!

2009-11-29T19:23:00.001-08:00

My littlest brother Joe is a dad! His daughter who, last time I heard, is going to be named Brooklyn Charmaine, was born today, November 29th. She's early but healthy and she and Stephanie are doing ok.

Hooray for early Christmas presents!

Also, I did a guest blog on Chris's blog here.

I am a guest blogger today you guys!

2009-11-28T20:13:00.000-08:00

This is Chris. Anna asked if I would do a blog for her today, so naturally I said no because I didn't want to have to think of anything to write. That was about 3 hours ago. I read a magazine, ate an orange, and walked to the grocery store to buy some shrimp in the meantime. About 8 minutes ago I told Anna that I changed my mind and would write a post for her. This was mostly because I thought of some ideas to write about,so it wont be an inconvenience to me anymore.
I am a fair-weather do-gooder.
I will now tell the story about how I came to be a bionic wonder. I am a superior human specimen now than when I was born.

1) I got braces in 9th grade. I have large teeth and a relatively small mouth. My teeth got super crowded and twisted. Then, thanks to mega-sweet-NASA-metals, my grill was transmogrified into a proper modern masterpiece. Also, I have permanent gold retainers cemented onto the backs of my teeth. It is kind of cool to know I always have it, but it makes flossing a pain.

2) My eyes were zapped by lasers until I had eagle vision. My eyes were bad. I had 20/800 vision and had worn glasses since second grade. I never knew what it was like to enjoy a simple swim or ride a roller coaster that went upside down without taking huge risks. I have gone through a lot of pairs of glasses and have had to superglue every pair I have owned. Many of them more than once. Nothing is more embarrassing to be 13 years old and playing in the cultural hall in church in front of the Merry Misses and Mia Maids and have a lens plop out of your glasses and have to stop everyone to find in and click it back in the frame. Nothing, that is, except for when you have bifocals and everyone tells you that they are pretty sure your glasses are broken now and do you need to call your mom? That is pretty embarrassing.
So I was pretty excited (even if it was 12 years later) to go get myself LASIKed up. I sat in a dark office with those long thin strips of wood in vases for a while before a LASIK technician came in and told me what was going to happen. I was supposed to take lots of ibuprofen and some valium to calm my nerves before we went in, and then I should do the whole laser bit and go home and nap. They brought me the drugs and I swallowed them and waited for 10 minutes in the same dork office while the doctor got the machine ready. They piped some muzak into the office and I was in a comfy chair, but I definitely felt like I was not their usual sort of demographic. I was 1/3 of the age of most other patients in the eye surgical hospital, but it meant there were lots of magazines to read that I had never seen before.
They came and got me and brought me into the laser room. It looked like something out of a nuclear warship engine room; there were swingy and rolly bits everywhere. They had me lie down on a bed slab and velcroed my head still. The slab rotated at the feet to move my head from the incision machine to the corneal zapper (unfortunately not the official title).

NOTE: If you get queasy with stories about eyes, it gets pretty queasalicious for the next few paragraphs. Just a heads up.

I was supposed to look at this red dot and not blink while the people put a ring-like cup underneath my eyelids that surrounded the whole eye. This hooked on to a vacuum that sucked my eye about a centimeter out of the socket towards the laser that would cut the corneal flap. I am glad it was a laser and not a blade because I would have been considerably more scared. They sucked and cut the right eye first. There was a mechanical noise and I could feel my eye moving. Everything started going gray around the edges of my eye until I couldn't see anything. It wasn't black like when you close your eye, because I could sense light and dark. It was a very light gray. It felt like it does when you roll your eyes back hard into your head. It took about 10 seconds to make the cut, and they unsucked my eye and put some drops it because I wasn't supposed to blink. Then they put the ring on my other eye. This one was harder to get on because I kept flinching. They got it on and turned on the suction but when they started cutting, I could feel a small sharp pain like a pinch travel around my eye. It didn't hurt, so I didn't bother stopping them, but it was kind of freaky.
Then they took a thin metal tool and flipped back the flap on both eyes. THAT was weird. The surface of the eye is very smooth, but the surface of the cornea is pretty rough. Like frosted glass. Everything went blurry (blurrier even than my already glasses-less vision) and it looked like I was in a really thick but clear fog.
They rotated me to the zapper where they had to put on a different ring to keep me from blinking. The right eye was first- I had to stare at a green laser and not move or look at anything but the green laser for 8 seconds. If my eye shifted a bit (as is natural seeing as I was alive), the laser would track it and compensate. This is some sweet technology. It made a few hundred individual zaps to reshape my eye in seconds and I could tel immediately (even through the rough cornea) that Things were very sharp. My left eye, again, was not willing to open and It took 5 minutes to get the ring in. I suppose the valium hadn't fully kicked in by then. They zapped that eye too in a matter of seconds with no surprises. Then the replaced the flaps and told me to go sit in a waiting room. They said to not blink a lot because that could move the flaps, and recommended I close my eyes and rest. I was too excited though, so I only closed one eye and looked at stuff through the other. When Anna came to drive me home they made me wear those huge dork-tastic plastic sheet sunglasses to leave. I took them off but Anna made me promise to wear the until we got home. Anna was nice and went to the library while I was getting morphed and picked me up some old radio shows. I got home and tried to listen but finally the valium kicked in and I slept for 5 hours. Then Anna read my torts cases to me and I dictated my notes. It was fun to hang out with Anna, but it was the most horrible night of studying ever. It was so cool to have nice vision I rode my bike to school and my check up the next day. The procedure was terrifying and I was convinced that I would be blinded by high powered lasers, but it is really really cool to have 20/15 vision. And I can go outside in rain. And I can go inside a warm house from the cold and not get foggy. And I can jump in water any time I want. I haven't ridden a roller coaster upside down yet, but I am excited to.

So bionic.

Hygiene

2009-11-27T18:59:00.000-08:00

I didn't take a shower today until 7:30 p.m. About 20 minutes later I dumped pizza on my lap. Still it was good pizza.

Sorry all you millions of faithful fans--I am so sleepy that the words on the screen are fuzzy.

Goodnight.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2009-11-26T21:07:00.000-08:00

It is Thanksgiving so you can bet your buttons I am not going to write a long post. However, lists are easy so I will make one of the big events of the day:

1. We played Mafia and I was an awesome liar and tricked EVERYONE. HAHAHAHAHA!

2. The missionaries played Mafia with us, and then went home and then we found a pair of their shoes that they accidentally left here. ??? That was funny. I mean, they do just live across the hall, but isn’t it a little hard to leave your shoes at someone’s house?

3. We had seven pies. SEVEN PIES!!!! How absolutely awesome.

4. In between making multiple dishes, my mother in law spent the entire time doing dishes. That is an example of an excellent character. Speaking of which, my in laws are really fun. They are funny and helpful and so easy going. One interesting non important fact about them. They can easily and quickly fall asleep anywhere. It is impressive.

Okay. That’s enough.

Thanksgiving Eve

2009-11-25T20:41:00.000-08:00

All day long I have been getting ready for Thanksgiving. I cleaned everything, even the places that no one will see. I never do that. The only thing I didn't clean was our other bathroom shower. I just left a rag and some cleaner in the tub so that Chris can clean it while he takes his shower tomorrow morning. I think he will have a good time.

I also butterflied our turkey and brined it. Wow. I'm such a hero. Getting ready for Thanksgiving is fun. Even though it took all day, I had a great time. I think part of it was because Soapy was being so charming, and part of it is that making Thanksgiving a big deal makes it more fun.

Most of Chris's family arrived this evening. Lisa gets here tomorrow. It was really fun to see Soapy get so excited to play with them. She is going to be so spoiled this weekend. I am excited to not be the center of her world for a while.

It almost feels like the beginning of a family reunion... except we're missing four members of Cris's family. Nathan is in Poland on his mission, but we don't really miss him because when you are on your mission you kind of become fake for two years. But Bryan, Katie and their little Big O are still in Provo. I wish they could be here. Wow, I really got sad thinking about it just now.

One highlight of this Thanksgiving Eve: Chris manipulating the turkey like a puppet. Sometimes pretending that animal carcasses are puppets is funny.

A list of what I did today

2009-11-24T20:18:00.000-08:00

1. Threw up twice.

2. Peed my pants twice.*

3. Cleaned a shower and took a shower at the same time. This was multitasking at its best. It was very satisfying except for two mishaps: a)I scrubbed a little too hard on the shower door and fell out onto the bathroom floor b) I was washing the shower handle and accidentally turned it to super hot and was slightly scalded.

4.Cooked rice for an old lady who didn't remember how to do it. I cleared up some important questions for her. Does the water have to boil before you put in the rice? Do you need a lid? Do you pour the rice through a colander to get rid of the water after you are done? No. Yes. No.

5. Burned a pie crust. I am really sad about that.

6. Told someone I didn't know very well that I peed my pants twice today and instantly regretted it. Talk about awkward moments.

7. Went to bed right now. Goodnight.

*If you are wondering whether numbers 1 and 2 happened at the same time, they did. Ahh, the joys of pregnancy. You are so lucky you get to read about it on this blog.

A stale loaf of bread broken into pieces.

2009-11-23T21:13:00.000-08:00

That is what is on my kitchen table tonight. It should have two other loaves to keep it company, but Chris and I had too much stuff to do so I will break some bread tomorrow.

It's for stuffing because Thanksgiving is on Thursday!

All of my Lewis in laws are coming to Nebraska except the four we are intentionally keeping away (psyche guys, we would never intentionally keep the Big O away).

Chris and I are super excited. Last Thanksgiving Lisa came out and we had a pretty stellar time. Feel free to admire our feast here. This year we are going more upscale. Yes, that means we are having a table cloth this year. Also instead of 3 people there will (probably) be 14. WHOOP WHOOP! So we will be having so much more food.

Also, sometime I will have to take some pictures of my couponing system I just upgraded and by the way...I am now super hard core.

Now I am going to sleep because I am going to wake up super early tomorrow to grade my students's finals. There are always lots of papers on tattoos which was interesting but is now super boring. I am a little excited because this time I have two students who randomly decided to write about more unique topics: cake baking and how to find nutritious food when you are lost in the wilderness.

See ya blog-stars.

Musical Moment in Relief Society

2009-11-22T18:24:00.000-08:00

The piano player for Relief Society was sick today. This wouldn't have been a big deal but all our other piano players were also missing. One of the counselors in the presidency asked if anyone could play anything on the piano. One brave soul admitted you could play the melody of the more familiar songs. So she bravely plunked out what she knew and we gratefully sang our opening song.

Then we had our Musical Moment. The woman in charge begged the emergency pianist to play that song as well. It wouldn't have been a big deal except...ha ha ha I am cracking up just remembering. Hoo!

Except, first the Musical Moment Director (I don't know the real name of the calling) stated that today we were going to work on breathing. She explained that while it is hard to know where to breathe during a song, you can generally follow the rule of breathing only at the commas, or every four measures. She then announced that we were going to try this all together as we sang a hymn. Unfortunately, the hymn she chose was one of those lesser known hymns. It was definitely unknown to our brave pianist. She did her best but she made a bunch of mistakes and played very slowly. VERY SLOWLY. And here we were, about thirty women trying to not breathe for the longest four measures ever. We were all turning red. I was trying really hard until I had to start laughing (don't worry, it was quietly). It was so funny. I love Relief Society but today I really loved Relief Society.

I dance myself to sleep

2009-11-21T22:33:00.000-08:00

Dang it! It is 12:30 a.m. which means I am half an hour late with my blog post. Oh well. I forgive myself. I just finished grading papers, organizing my new class that starts on Monday, and planning a Relief Society lesson for tomorrow. So, I feel more like a hero than a slacker.

Plus, PLUS I had an awesome dinner tonight. I will let you guess what it was. It rhymes with licken truggets. Oh happy happy day.

For my blog today I would like to share with you my favorite Sesame Street song. I never watched Sesame Street before I had an offspring, and so far it's been relegated to Elmo's World. Sophie loves Elmo and lately I have been exploiting that love to get things done around the house...like checking email and laying on the couch.

Anyway, I really love this one song. I have been known to replay it for my own enjoyment. I hope you enjoy it.

For my muppet husband

2009-11-20T18:45:00.000-08:00

I just wrote a long, wordy, and sloppy post that I had delete because of its embarrassing sentimentality. Why is it that the subjects that I care most about are the hardest to write about? Is this true for other people? I think it must be because language is so limited. There just aren't words important enough. I'm doing my best but it's like trying to translate The Odyssey into the language of hummingbirds. (What the heck kind of a simile was that? I don't know.)

Anyway I want to write about Chris and why I married him. Today was a good day until this evening when it suddenly turned into a very hard day and it reminded me of my favorite qualities of Christopher. I'm going to list some of my favorite things--not a lot of them, but the most meaningful to me. I was going to illustrate them with stories but that just turned into smarmy embarrassment city so I will keep it short and sweet. However, before I list them I want to address Chris's most readily apparent quality from his blogging: his playfulness. And by playful, I mean both playful like a puppy who wants to play tug-of-war, and playful like an otter cruelly toying with its prey before devouring it. Chris is annoyingly, infuriatingly, and delightfully playful. I do love this about him. It makes things fun, exciting, and occasionally dangerous. I don't always encourage it, but I like it.

However, this is just frosting on the cake to me.

Here is why Chris is so great to be married to:

1. He will casually tell you all his worst faults as soon as he meets you. This may not seem like such a virtue at first, but you, as a reader of his blog, probably know all the worst things about him already. There are not hidden surprises--what you see is what you get. He's just an honest guy. I promise, you don't know even a fourth of my worst faults. And you won't if I can help it.

2. I've never met anyone who communicates better with me. I've never had an awkward moment with him. I think this is a very real and very specialized spiritual gift that benefits only me and our marriage. This may not seem like a big deal, but trust me, it is.

3. When he's wrong he'll admit it and apologize. I noticed this as a missionary. I was struck by it. He can do it immediately, and incredibly humbly.

4. The world is delightful to him. Everything is interesting. I can't keep up. Things distract him that I don't even see. Sometimes, before we go to sleep I ask him what he's thinking about. He might be doing math to figure out how many arm hairs he has. He might be thinking about organic gardening, or physics, or word puzzles or dinosaurs, or waht happens if a bird flies inside a moving car and then stops flying. He can talk about just about anything with anyone because he is interested in everything. When I waste time on the internet, I really waste time. When Chris wastes time...well, he also wastes time I guess, but he also learns crazy things.

5. Okay. This is the last and tonight feels like the most important quality of the Christopher. Yes he's playful 90% of the time. But when things are serious, or scary, or so so sad, he is not serious. He is calm, and patient and takes care of things. He's the best person to have around in an emergency. I wish you could see him fall into his EMT routine when someone is hurt. It's almost as dramatic as Clark Kent to Superman switch. Tonight was not a big deal, but it felt like a big deal and it was so nice to not have to handle it alone, in fact, to not deal with it at all. Chris got on the phone and fixed the problem that was fixable. Then he sat down with me and put the other problems in perspective, then he went off to do some service by babysitting some kids as a favor to the J. Reuben Clark Law Society that he's not even a member of anymore. Don't let his manner fool you, this kid is no kid. This guy has gravitas.

I find this post unsatisfactory, as I find anything I have so far tried to write about Chris (with the exception of one poem I wrote about what would happen if Chris died which I got spot on). So I will end this by just saying that the best choice I ever made was marrying Chris, my muppet husband.

Alison's Love Story

2009-11-19T18:41:00.000-08:00

So, in a previous post I requested that my 18 year old sister-in-law, Alison, report about her love life. Instead of honoring my request, or even ignoring it, she made a smart-alecky post about it here. Therefore, I have taken it upon myself to write a post about her future love life, once she goes off to college. Please enjoy and feel free to make plenty of embarrassing comments directed to her.

A Love Story

Alison wrinkled her nose at the reflection in the mirror. Everyone said her curly hair was beautiful, but to her it was just a tangly bird's nest. She pulled a strand of her lustrous, chestnut hair in front of her eyes and let it go. As it bounced back into a perfect curl, she sighed. If only she had straight hair, everything would be better!

Still, she was not going to let her hair ruin things. Not today. She quickly pulled her thick and fragrant locks into an updo. Today was a big day. Today, she was going to ask Bruno Wasabunny out. Bruno was definitely the hawtttt!est freshman guy at Coolio University. He was so hawwwttt!!! that he didn't have to ask girls out, they all asked him. Alison had been biding her time and she knew that he had just broken up with Ashley Spitandrun. Now was her chance.

She left her dorm room and headed for the cafeteria, where she knew she would find Bruno. She entered and saw him right away, the morning sun turning his wheat-blond hair golden, and glinting off his perfect, white smile. Alison's knees wobbled and she had to grab on to the person walking in front of her to keep from swooning.

"Hey! Ow! Let go of my hair! Are you crazy?"

Crazy? Yes she was. Crazy in love. She could hardly understand what the boy in front of her was saying, her heart was beating so loud. It was something about drawing blood and needing stitches. She had no time for this. She smiled and moved on.

She grabbed a tray and began serving herself breakfast. As if she could eat with love on her mind! Still, she had to maintain appearances. He couldn't know that this was life or death for her. They would joke about it later, she was sure. Laugh and giggle together about how nervous she was...how nervous they both were at first. But today-- today she had to be cool.

Finally she took a deep breath and headed over to the table where he was sitting. There was an open seat RIGHT next to him! Alison felt a sudden calm come over her. Of course she would ask him out. Of course he would say yes in that liquid gold tone of his. They would date, and get married, and have eight children. It was meant to be. Just as she approached he turned around and smiled. Alison heard music. It sounded like this. She smiled back and said, in her most seductive voice, "Hi Bruno."

But wait, something wasn't right. Bruno wasn't looking at her, he was looking past her. She turned to follow his gaze and saw a smiley, suntanned, straight-haired boystealer blow him a kiss. In two seconds, this impostor had run up to him, flung her arms around his neck and gone jungle wild all over his face in such a way that this innocent little story would have to be at least PG if it were made into a film (which it probably will be).

Alison wanted to cry or scream or pull out her pocket-uzi and blow them both to bits. But instead, she dropped her tray on the floor. Marshmallow mateys and milk cascaded down her front like tears. Only then did Bruno look at her. And he laughed.

She turned and ran. But she didn't run very far because, well, she was a little hungry after all. So, she ran back to the breakfast buffet and got some sweet waffles with whipped cream and strawberries. She also grabbed a few chicken nuggets. Then she found the farthest most lonely looking booth and tried to disappear (and eat breakfast). She knew she was going to cry so she let down her hair to hide her face. She whispered, "I can't believe I am such a lollipop." Then her shoulders heaved in silent sobs that stopped periodically as she gently, and tragically, slurped her chocolate milk.

At the same moment, a boy with deliberately mussed dark hair entered the cafeteria, smiling with his friends. He suddenly stopped in his tracks, his dark eyes widening with alarm and a strange need. There was new scent in the room. The usual smell was there: the smell of chicken nuggets and other breakfast food, the smell of human flesh that he had long ago mastered his desire for, even the hint of fresh blood, probably from someones hair recently being ripped out of their scalp...and a new smell. A smell so tantalizing, so delicious it was as though a flavor had been created just for him. He felt the inhuman part of his mind slowly begin to take over his better self and he knew he must leave before he went on a murderous rampage. But first he had to know where it was coming from.

His eyes rapidly scanned the room until they settled on a graceful figure, hunched over her breakfast nuggs in the gross booth right by the bathroom that no one ever sits in. Suddenly his beast nature halted its take over. Instead, a very human emotion filled his being. He no longer wanted to devour this creature. But he did want to be closer. Close enough to touch her lustrous chestnut curls. He left his friend and with a smoldering gaze, he walked to her...

Feel free to continue this story in your own blogs.

P.S. What a classic young adult novel beginning. Well done Anna.

Another Bus Adventure

2009-11-18T20:29:00.001-08:00

Today was another fun bus trip. This time, Sophie and I went to Walmart. It’s a half hour trip, and then the next bus comes an hour after we get there so the whole trip took about two hours. Man, Sophie loves the bus so much. I guess when we travel in a car she has to sit in the back seat, strapped in by her self. On the bus I (her one true buddy) sat right next to her, and I let her stand and lean on the window so I guess I can understand why she loves it so much. Also, she is always the only kid on the bus so all the adults smile and coo at her.

The one annoying part was that Sophie only really likes to shop for a maximum of 30 minutes, even when we play games like ramming the cart into the clothes racks so she is swamped in coats, or running really fast up and down the aisles. So, we finished our shopping and then had about half an hour to wait for the bus. We spent it in the little arcade, spending Sophie’s college money on motorcycle games. That took about 2 minutes. No, actually we just moved from one of those quarter operated cars to the other so Soapy could pretend to drive them. We didn’t put any money in, but we did polish it very well with Soapy’s bum. (Note: Soapy is learning her body parts. So far she knows head, nose, teeth and feet. I will teach her bum tomorrow.)

Anyway, it was a long thirty minutes for me but the whole trip rocked Sophie’s world. She was so happy. When we got home, I put on Katie J.’s blog so I could listen to some happy dancing music as I made dinner and Sophie put up her hands and wanted to dance. So we had a dance party for a few minutes. I don’t mean to be rude but that kid needs to learn some new moves. And by the way, holding hands, walking in a circle and falling down does NOT work for every song. Sheesh.

Cry-baby

2009-11-17T19:52:00.000-08:00

My sister in law, Katie mentioned the other day that since she has had her baby she cries at things she would never have cried at before. This made me laugh, because the same thing happened to me.

I feel like I barely ever cried before I graduated from college. Then I started crying a bit during my mission. Although this sounds a little over-dramatic, I honestly think it is because I finally learned a little bit about sadness. My life up to that point was pretty easy, and, despite any teenage complaining, was really happy. Even my personal mission life wasn't very extraordinary; however, I think that when you try and help God with his work you get to feel a little of a weight that is too great for you and the emotions, both sad and happy that are too much for you. So I think I started to understand sadness on my mission, not my own, but other people's. That helped me start crying a bit (but no more than reason).

I got married and I started crying more. This, I think, had noting to do with sadness and all to do with outward influences. Namely Chris. Mostly, I think this happened because Chris likes staying up super late and I need a lot of sleep. I was sleep deprived and in that happy-stressed newlywedd state a Starburst commercial could make me weepy because of it's incredible beauty.

Then I had Soapy and I have not been the same since. This in when the waterfalls of heaven were opened up and poured out my eyes (Hmm, I thought that metaphor would work but it is weird and a little disturbing. Sorry.) If I am alone I can cry on demand.

In fact I'll do it right now... I did it. Right this second my eyes are full of tears. All I did was imagine a grown up Sophie reading this blog as a young mother herself. Oh gag. I know, it's embarrassing. It's not just tears. I feel 'moved' all the time. I can watch a pop tv show and laugh at people who find it meaningful, but be crying for the meaning of it at the same time.

I don't really know what this means. I would like to think I just feel things more deeply, but I think the truth is that my nerves are synapsing in some weird way. I find meaning and cry at things that I know have no meaning. How does that even make sense? Now I am weeping at the chaos of it all.

Anyway, sometimes if I am in a group of people I have to bite the inside of my cheek really really hard so I won't burst into loud sobs. And of course, sometimes that backfires because I bite too hard and then I let out an embarrassing whimper.

Ugh. What a crybaby.
I am so tired.

One last sick day

2009-11-16T19:39:00.001-08:00

Today was full of naps and nose-blowing. The only human contact I had with anyone that did not live with me was when I walked to the credit union to make a deposit. Here's how my one real-life conversation went today:

Teller: How can I help you?
Me: I'd like to make a deposit.
Teller: Okay. Let's see...
Pause. Soapy tries to eat her stroller strap.
Teller: There you go." She hands me the little bank slip.
Me: Thanks. Have a good evening.
Teller: You too.

That was it for me today. I guess I did talk on the phone to two people as well. Sarah K. being one of them.

Sophie and I had a good time, though. We experimented with her climbing on new things and standing on things with wheels. She likes to stand on shaky ground. I think she enjoys a little bit of scariness. (I think that is a side effect of having Chris as a father. He likes to startle her and it cracks her up.) She kept on running straight in to a chest of drawers with her head. She did it like three times in a row. I don't know what her deal is.

We both stayed in our pajamas until two o'clock. Of course I was not going to make real food today, so for breakfast I had bagels and Nutella. Lunch was some instant stuffing and some of Sophie's green beans and dinner was tomato soup. Don't worry. Sophie ate her usual healthy junk. Breakfast: oatmeal mixed with yogurt and some apple. Lunch: Spaghetti and green beans. Dinner: bread, spaghetti and green beans. I guess she didn't get much variety but whatever. Neither one of us was very hungry anyway.

Anyway, Sophie is happy and healthy as a happy and healthy clam now, and I only have some gross sniffles left, so hopefully we will rejoin the land of the living tomorrow.

Next time I will make sure I do not get sick unless I have a bunch of movies to watch and I have recently restocked my pantry.

Requests

2009-11-15T19:11:00.000-08:00

Okay, Sophie and I have been home sick all day and I have nothing to report except that she has crusties all around her nose and I have sneezed more than twenty times today.

Therefore, I am using my blog to request things that I would like for other bloggers who read my blog to write about in their upcoming posts. You don't have to dedicate the whole post to it, maybe just a comment at the end.

Chris: I want you to write about me.

Lisa: I would like you to make a list of all the things you are afraid of, because from your comments I think you have a bunch.

Bridget: I want you to recommend a good book because I need one to read about now. Also, I am in the mood to read a sad blog, so if you wanted to do a Flashback weekday and write about a sad time in your life, I think that would be pleasing to me.

Katie:I want another Olivia blog with some comment about Anna being a great Aunt. Also I would like you to figure out some easy yet strikingly beautiful way to make a home-made star for a little Christmas tree.

Sarah K.: I would like to see some of your photography for your class on your blog. Also, I would like to know where Matt will be stationed. Also, I just sneezed again.

Bryan: I would like you to write a meaningful post that some way incorporates a nice picture of some chicken nuggets. I like chicken nuggets. Also, I would like you to write about some cool fact you know--preferably true.

Alison: I would like your next posting to be about your romantic life, because that is interesting to me. The more angst the better.

Becky F.: I would like you to post a picture of something unexpected that you have managed to stick to Marley's face.

Katie J.: I would like you to have your baby and post pictures.

Kathy: I would like to hear about a time when you were a total jerk, because that would be a funny story. Also, a little unbelievable.

Trish: You don't have a blog so my challenge to you is to start a blog and join Nablopomo in the middle or you can make a comment on this post using the word "lollipop" the way Alison uses it.

Okay, that's it for my blogger tyranny. If there actually is another blogger who read this and would like to participate, I encourage you to follow the assignment I gave Bryan because I really do like chicken nuggets.

If you don't want to follow my requests but still wish to remain friends with me, then I suggest you put the following comment at the end of your posting: "I refuse to play Anna's mind games." Unless you are Chris. If you are Chris you have to follow your assignment or I will slash your bike tires. No joke.

I am going to go blow my nose.

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

2009-11-14T18:40:00.000-08:00

Katie was the closest. As a reward she gets five ampersands and one asterisk. Here you go Katie: &&&&&*

Lewis Carroll wrote the riddle for Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, as any respectable Disney cartoon watcher should know. The Mad Hatter asks the riddle. In the video below you can find it at 5:37. (Is it weird to anyone else that Youtube citations look so much like scriptural citations?). There was no answer because, well, the Mad Hatter was mad. Why would he ask a riddle that actually made sense?

It got a lot of people annoyed that Carroll did not actually have an answer. Some people came up with their own. These include, "Poe wrote on both," "They both stand on sticks," "They both come with inky quills," and one that played on the fact that there is no answer: "There is a B in both but an N in neither."

Carroll came up with his own answer.(He was actually quite the riddler and also a mathematician and photographer and a deacon in the Anglican church.) He published it in a preface to a later edition of his book. Here it is:

"Enquiries have been so often addressed to me, as to whether any answer to the Hatter's Riddle can be imagined, that I may as well put on record here what seems to me to be a fairly appropriate answer, viz: 'Because it can produce a few notes, though they are very flat; and it is nevar put with the wrong end in front!' This, however, is merely an afterthought; the riddle as originally invented, had no answer at all."

The "nevar" part is "raven" backwards. Unfortunately, his copy editor thought it was a misspelling so he changed it, which led to a lot of confusion.

Wow, I got a lot of mileage out of riddles. I knew that teenage phase would come in handy.

Riddles

2009-11-13T19:44:00.001-08:00

Ugh. So. Tired. Of. Posting.

When I was a junior in high school I went through a period where I was obsessed with riddles. I would go to the library and read about riddles, and then read about the riddlers, which was pretty interesting. I memorized a bunch of riddles in order to dazzle my audience in case I was ever in a situation requiring a riddle. Surprisingly, that situation never came up until tonight when I needed something to write for a blog post. Unfortunately I have forgotten most of the riddles.

Luckily for you, I remember one. I challenge you to give your best answer to it. It's pretty famous (the question, not the answer). The only rule is that you cannot look up the answer. NO GOOGLE. The answer must come from your own imagination or from your own knowledge. Also, I will give you half credit if you know where it's from or who wrote it.

Are you ready? Here it is:

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

Much Love,
Anna

I've been Nebraskaned.

2009-11-12T19:30:00.001-08:00

So, I have new hobby that I am SUPER DUPER EXCITED about: I am learning how to make a baby quilt! There is an awesome quilter in our ward who is teaching a class on how to make a Stack and Slash quilt. (By the way, that's a pretty cool name). I showed up even though I was still pretty sketchy on how to use a sewing machine. By sketchy I mean that I didn't even know where to plug in the cords, not to mention threading the beast, or(gasp!) making a bobbin. Now, because of the patience of the women in my ward - as well as the prayers and fasting of my mother - not only do I now know how to set up and use my awesome sewing machine, I also have all 25 squares of my quilt done! And I can whip you up a bobbin any day. Woo-hoo!Making a quilt is very very satisfying to me, but it's something I thought I would never do.

This is just an example of how living in Nebraska is changing me. It seems that the longer I am in Nebraska the more I am mid-westernized. I mean, I left college writing poetry, finishing my thesis, and having crepe parties. Now I coupon, sew quilts, and have play dates. In my University days I used Google to look up Asian depictions of Jesus (by the way, Googling other cultures depiction of deity is ALWAYS enlightening), and now I use it to find out how to get hard water stains off our shower doors.

I think my pre-Nebraska self might be disappointed in these changes. But, I like my life. I feel like I am involved in very worthwhile things. I think it would be different if I were living somewhere else, but I like the qualities of Nebraskans I have adopted. I kind of wonder which changes I will keep when we finally move.

That's all.

The story of Whistle- my miraculous Argentine hamster

2009-11-11T19:42:00.001-08:00

(This is pretty much what she looked like, except she had shorter fur because I would cut it sometimes.)

I decided today to tell you of my beloved hamster Whistle. I got Whistle and her husband, Fellow, when I was in the fifth grade. We had just moved to Buenos Aires, Argentina. I loved living in Argentina. It still seems like a magical place to me. Here are a few things that happened to me in Argentina:

1.I was told by the cutest boy in the class that I was cool and had "cool shoes."

2.A parrot got blown into our yard by a storm and we got to keep him.

3.We had a tree in our backyard that we were told not to play under because it periodically dropped fruits that were huge and could kill us if they hit us. This made it really scary when a ball rolled underneath the tree. Periodically we would wake up in the morning and there would be these deadly watermelon-sized fruits lying under the tree.

4. I found a jeweled dagger in a hidden cubby in our rented house.

5. I got a telescope for Christmas or my birthday and spent a lot of time spying on people, and it freaked me out.

6. We saw and sat on live miniature horses.

7. They sold hot dogs there the length of my arm.

So, like I said, Argentina was a magical place. We were only there a year. When we found out we were moving back to Virginia, my parents told me we had to get rid of the hamsters. We were able to give Fellow away easily, but it was harder for Whistle.

I thought Whistle was getting more and more pregnant, but it turns out that hamsters do not carry their babies only on their left sides. Poor Whistle had a very large, strange growth on her side. Nobody wanted to take her, even for free. Even with the cage for free. My parents conferred and it was decided that Dad would "take care of her."

So one evening I said goodbye and my Dad drove off with Whistle. This would be the end of the story, but remember that Argentina is a magical place.

About a week later, my parents and I were packing stuff in the garage when something small and blond scurried up to me. It was Whistle--lump and all! My mother looked at my dad who was plainly astonished. He said he couldn't bear to kill Whistle so he had just driven far away and let her go into a field.

Let's take a moment and think of the resilience of this fine animal. Whistle had never set foot anywhere in the house other than my room. How in the world did a hamster know how to get to my home? What sort of homing device did she have? And how did she, a domesticated blond target, manage to scurry past all predators and past all the cars on the Buenos Aires streets to come back? Also, I think it quite commendable that she not only found the house but found me, ignoring other family members. I could hardly sleep that night, thinking of the wonderful and brilliant hamster that had returned to me.

The next day, my dad "took care" of Whistle, and this time she didn't come back. So that's a lousy ending but still. What a cool hamster, no?

How changeable is your character?

2009-11-10T10:47:00.000-08:00

This is the book I am currently reading. In the book, Gladwell talks about his theory for sociological "tipping points." Basically, there are times when things catch on really fast and inexplicably, or die quickly and inexplicably, and he gives some theories of why these things happen. His examples range from the sudden popularity of Hush Puppies, to the rise and drop of the crime rate in New York City.I'm not sure exactly how I feel about the author's conclusions yet--he's kind of defending himself as he goes; however, I really like learning about some of the research he sites.

For example, there are a couple studies that I have been thinking about a lot lately.

1. The Good Samaritan Experiment.

A bunch of Seminary students were selected and individually asked why they decided to join the seminary. Then they were asked to give a brief lecture on different gospel topics in a nearby building. Some students were even given the topic of the Good Samaritan to speak on. They were then sent off to give their little talks. On the way there they had to pass by a bum (an actor) lying on the ground moaning and coughing in pain. The experiment measured who stopped and who didn't.

There was one other variable added to the mix. Half the students were told, right before they left to give their talks that they were a little late and the audience was already waiting for them. The other half were told they had a few minutes to start, but they might as well head over now.

It turns out that the students who were lecturing about the Good Samaritan were no more likely to stop than those who were not lecturing about the Good Samaritan. The students who joined the Seminary because they wanted to help out their fellow man were no more likely to stop than those who joined for other reasons (the book doesn't state what these other reasons were, I assume it was for filthy lucre or power).

However, out of the group that was told they were late, only 10% stopped to help. The other group that felt they had time had 63% stop to help.

2. The Cheating Test

This was a humongous experiment of eleven thousand students between the ages of 8 and 16. They gave them dozens of tests in dozens of situations to judge their honesty. They had ways to test their cheating which I won't go into here. They gave them tests in math, in English, in science. They gave them take home tests. They gave them tests on different days. Basically, I feel sorry for these kids because they had to take so many tests. Here is what there results were: there is a lot of cheating going on. No surprise.

What was surprising was that it wasn't the same kids all the time. A kid might cheat in math, but not in English. He might cheat on a multiple choice test but not a fill in the blank test. He might cheat at home, but not at school. He might cheat on Thursday but not Friday. There was no one group of "Cheats." Who cheated depended on the situation that day.

Gladwell's conclusion to these and other experiments he includes is that though we think of our character as being very solid, it is actually fluid. People's characters change depending on their situations. We think of people as being honest, or funny, or cheerful, or lazy...but no one is always these things. When we label our characters we actually underestimate their complexities. People in a hurry are less likely to help someone in trouble, no matter if they feel called of God to help all of mankind. People who have cheated do not always cheat.

It both reassures and bothers me that my very character can shift depending on the situation. It reassures me because looking back on a new situation, I am sometimes confused about why I acted the way I did. I have been thinking about how different I act here in Nebraska than in Utah (the drinking, carousing, tattoos etc.). It's nice to know I might just be normal instead of a social chameleon.

It bothers me because, especially morally, I would like to be predictable and solid. Once I know what is wrong and right I would rather not change depending on my company, or the weather. I like to think I am dependable but, honestly, if I was in a hurry I would probably walk right past the bum (maybe kick him too).

Anyway. It's interesting to think about.

Erik

2009-11-09T20:29:00.000-08:00

Today is my little brother's birthday, so I thought that I would post my all time favorite picture of him.

When I first saw this photo I (like everyone who knew of Erik's hatred for dogs before he got married to a veterinary student) was delighted. It's very funny to see the kid who used to kick our little, white, highland terrier across the room, cuddle up with this pooch. (Okay, I have to admit that Erik insists that he never hated dogs, just the one dog that was our little, white, highland terrier. And that same terrier has drawn blood from every member of my immediate family and several extended family members, in laws, and acquaintances. So maybe he has some small justification. Still, it's funny. If you have been harmed or at least threatened by Moby, the great white beast, feel free to share your story in the comment section.)

However, this photo also nagged at me for some reason. It seemed like I was missing something from it. Like there was something I was supposed to get from the photo but was missing (Can you tell I have just read The Lost Symbol?). Then I realized it: this photo finally gave me the key to Erik's character.

So for Erik's birthday, I thought I would do little psychoanalysis of him on my public blog as a birthday present. What better present could you give a person, really?

(It's very probable that he doesn't even read this blog, in which case I am hoping by word of mouth he learns of its existence and of his own spotlight.)

So anyway, I could write you a little essay about all the crazy and not so crazy things Erik has done in his life but it is late so I thought I would summarize all of Erik's character into one word to define him for all of you who did not have the privilege of growing up with him.

Are you ready? Here it is, the word that summarizes the dominant personality trait of Erik: GOOFY.

Seriously, this kid is a goofy snowball of goofiness. Sure, he acts all responsible and serious but really, he wants to be silly. You haven't fooled me Erik. You are not so grown up. I remember how as a toddler you could never stop giggling. I remember how you loved pranking houses with me. We would gather up furniture that people were throwing out and when we had enough we would go to someone's house and set it all up on their lawn like there had been a big meeting there. We left programs of the meetings. Ha ha ha...remember all the Official Arthropod Meetings we faked? (Uh, honestly, I think we might have stolen some office chairs accidentally one time. I feel a little bad about that, but seriously people should take care of their stuff.)

Now that Erik is married, good GRIEF the goofiness has come home to roost. I suspect that Erica is goofy too and is able to unleash Erik's goofiness--for which I am eternally grateful to her.

Goofy is good. This is obviously not a real psychoanalysis of you, Erik. But, I do like how laid back and silly you are sometimes. I love you and miss you. I hope your dog gives you a big, wet, sloppy kiss for your birthday, and I hope it is totally gross.

Christmas in Nebraska

2009-11-08T18:52:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking a lot about Christmas. I am pretty excited for it. Today I was thinking about all the gifts I want to make or give people for Christmas. I only have three planned and I have at least seventeen people to give gifts to, so I have a ways to go. Here are some of the things I am excited to do because of Christmas:

1. Put a wreath on our door

2. Put up our midget Christmas tree

3. Buy or make our new annual Christmas ornament (Chris doesn’t know we have this tradition, but we do)

4. Make cinnamon rolls and give them to neighbors and friends and the guys at Meineke who are so nice

5. Take out our Advent Candle-Holder

6. Celebrate Advent with lots and lots of treats every Sunday

7. Wrap up presents (I really love wrapping paper. It’s so wasteful and so so so pretty)

8. Listen to my favorite song: Christmas in Nebraska.

9. Drink hot chocolate

AND…

10. FIND OUT IF THIS LITTLE PARASITE INSIDE OF ME IS A BOY OR A GIRL! (We’ll have the ultrasound December 9, but we are going to have the tech write down the gender and seal it up in an envelope to be opened Christmas Morning.) I tell you what, just knowing that we will get that news on Christmas makes me think this might be the best Christmas EVER.

For your information, I am about 95% sure I was having a little boy. Also, I think he will have darker hair (brown not blond), and will be tinier than Sophie was when she was born. FYI, I was spot on about Sophie being a curly-haired, blond girl.

I even have a name picked out, but I don’t think Chris is completely on board with me about it. Even if he was, I think we will keep the name a secret for now.

Blog Music Playlists

2009-11-07T20:01:00.000-08:00

1. I feel a bit bad about Thursday's post about my snobbery, like maybe I was too mean. I blame you, my readers, for my sadness. Becky R. was the only one who challenged my dumb snobbery. I know some of you must like turtlenecks, or skipping, or Nicholas Sparks. But you didn't say anything. Now I feel like you are being quietly brave and strong despite my jerkiness. I exhort you to feel free to tell me I have bad taste. After all, there are plenty of things I like that are pretty lame. Which brings me to the subject of my blog tonight: Blog Playlists

2. The real blog post begins now:

I know, blog playlists are not always cool. They are downright freaky if you aren't expecting them, and I never am. You are looking at some cute baby pictures and then all the sudden, blasting out of your speakers is "IF YOU LIKE IT THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE PUT A RING ON IT!"

Still, I have to admit, I have started liking Blog Playlists. I feel like it gives me a little window into the writer that I would see no other way. It's nice sometimes to know that as you see pictures of a boy taking his first step his parents (okay, his mom) wants you to hear this.

Also, sometimes I go to people's blogs just to listen to their playlists while I do my chores. A couple nights ago I was considering making my own playlist so I can listen to my own favorite songs all the time. I may still do this, but don't worry I would make a new blog just for that reason. I don't want to freak anyone out.

Still, I thought I would share my two current favorite songs with you. They are both by Sondre Lerche. If I ever do end up making a Playlist Blog I will definitely let you know.

PS22

2009-11-06T20:12:00.000-08:00

So PS22 is just a public school in New York. They have a lot of minorities and high risk kids. Not the worst school but definitely not the best school. Along comes this young, idealistic, music teacher with funky hair who starts a fifth grade chorus and has his students sing not-the-usual songs. The teacher is enthusiastic and works hard. He starts posting their songs on Youtube. They get noticed by the famous blogger Perez Hilton and suddenly they are pretty famous too.

This is a nice story, and reason enough to pay attention. However, this class of 5th grade singers is very compelling to me. It's because of this video:

I love this little video. I am sure I have watched it about 50 times. I love how much fun the kids are clearly having. I love the little rapper girl who has a very very small solo but is SO EXCITED to be there. My favorite part starts at about 1:19 when the two little girls look at each other and burst into big smiles. I showed it to Chris and he laughed at me, but whatever. Who can help liking these kids with their awkward dancing, their ratty hair, their sweet voices, and their big smiles? If you look at other videos, especially the later ones when they are performing for pop stars, their hair is all done up and they look self-important and fake. But in this clip these kids are very real and very happy. If you have already heard of these kids, this is a nice reminder for you. If not, I hope you like them. You can read more about them on their blog here.

Snobbery

2009-11-05T10:32:00.000-08:00

There are things in this world that I am just too cool for-- things that I look down on. I have compiled a short list below. I do not defend my snobbery of these things, I merely acknowledge it.

1. Flu shots
2. Energy drinks
3. Turtlenecks
4. Books by Nicholas Sparks
5. Books by Ayn Rand -even though I've read them all, some more than once
6. Rich people
7. scrapbooking and card making
8. People who look down on Relief Society
9. Limes
10. tootsie rolls
11. skipping
12. The movie "Happy Feet."
13. This is the strongest of all my snobbery and the most unfortunate: People who are snobs to other people.

I realize that there are many of you who like the things I have listed. I don't look down on you. It's a love the sinner hate the sin type deal. Feel free to confess your own snobbery in comments.

Too many words.

2009-11-04T19:36:00.000-08:00

I made a lot of resolutions when I started college. None of them had to do with actual academics. They had to do with my social life. I decided that I had to stop being terribly shy and learn how to make friends. Lots of friends. I tried out a bunch of techniques that I had come up with from years and years of reading about how fun and cool people made friends. These techniques (along with a lot of heartfelt, teen-age angsty prayers) helped me make a lot of friends, and not just friends but really cool friends.

I thought you might be more likely to believe me if you heard a witness to my friend-making skills. Here is a clip of my super-smart, super-more-friendly-than-me, friend Sarah giving a speech for her Standford speech workshop that begins by talking about me. (I think everyone who read my blog already knows about a blog she writes for, but if not, here is the link.)

Anyway, my freshman year was delightful. I am still in awe of all the really cool/brilliant people who hung out with me.

I would like to focus on one of my making friends techniques that has gotten me in to trouble.

I decided that silence=awkwardness and rather than have any more silences in my life I would just always fill awkward moments with whatever conversation I could think of. In fact, to avoid awkward silences altogether I would rush to fill in any moment of quiet with some kind of chatter. I did this a lot when I worked as a social worker and also as a missionary.

Sometimes it worked well. For example, early on in my mission in Greece,I was speaking with some ward members and they soon started speaking Greek that I couldn't understand. I guess they realized they were speaking over my head so they stopped talking. To avoid a silence I fell back on my favorite conversation starter in Greece which was to pick a random word they said then ask them what it meant in English. I picked "kounelaki." They told me in meant "rabbit."
So, I said the first thing I could think of about rabbits, hoping to kick-start the conversation again:

"Rabbits. I like rabbits."
Hmm. Not quite the conversation starter I'd hoped for. So I continued. "I like rabbits because they have a lot of babies and they uh..." I didn't know the Greek word for "hop" so I put my hands in front of me like paws and did a few desperate hops for them.

Luckily, they thought this was really funny and we ended up being best friends. In fact when I got married one girl sent me a CD with a Greek children's rhyme about rabbits. So in my book, that conversation was a success.

However, sometimes my filling in awkward silences have not ended so well. Mostly, in regards to people telling me they were going to commit suicide.

I worked in a nursing home for a while as a recreation assistant. This is why, to this day, I am an expert at calling out Bingo numbers. One day I was making my rounds, trying to appear cheery and perky because those are qualities that nursing homes seem to always be short of, when a lady grabbed my arm and said I was nice so she wanted to tell me goodbye because she was going to kill herself in an hour or so.

I don't remember how she planned on doing this, but I do remember taking her very seriously. So, told her she couldn't. She asked me why not. Nobody had ever asked me that before, but I knew silence to that question would be a wrong choice so I just opened my mouth and let whatever was in there pop out: "Because we are having an Ice Cream Social tonight, and you can't miss it."

That's right, she wanted a reason to live and I gave her ice cream. She looked confused so I just kept going, telling her what a big deal it was (it wasn't)and that we'd been planning it for months (we hadn't) and there would be really great ice cream (there wouldn't). The funny thing is that instead of laughing in my face, she very seriously asked if there would be cherries. I assured her there would be. She politely said she might be able to hold on until after the social. I told her that was great then I ran off to tell someone who actually dealt with suicide threats and then to the kitchen to make sure there were cherries.

The second time someone was discussing suicide with me it wasn't really a threat. I was doing a home visit while I was working for Human Services. This was a handicapped lady whose grandson lived with her and treated her terribly and bullied her out of her money and didn't even mow the lawn for her. She thought it was her fault he was a walnut-faced buffoon and wished she could do more for him. She said she wished she was dead because she was a drain on everyone around her. She was unhappy and only spending money that could be better used for other people. She asked me why she should live when she was so unhappy and her life was a burden to others.

Once again this "why should I live" question. You'd think I would have prepared an answer this time. I decided to try and turn it into a joke. After all, when people are thinking they have no purpose in life it is always a good time for a real knee-slapper. Note to world: Never let me be your suicide counselor. So I said:

"Your life can't possibly be that much of a burden to others. I mean, sure maybe if it cost them money for you to breathe or something, maybe you'd be a burden. But breathing isn't a burden to anyone. Air is free!" I don't know why I thought that would be funny. But it definitely wasn't when she pointed her cane to the big oxygen tank behind me that she used for breathing at night.

We sat there in a silence that was more scary than awkward and then I excused myself and went back to the office, gave my boss a full report, and then high-tailed it back to Utah.

Anyway, sometimes I still try to fill in awkward silences, but now I always try to do it with a question. This works unless I accidentally ask a super personal question. (A few days ago I asked the following question of one of my University of Phoenix students who had called me with a question about an assignment I'd posted: "So, do you really love your boyfriend or are you just with him because you don't want to be alone?"

Congratulations on reading to the end of this post. My goal is to write a short post tomorrow.

Should I stay or should I go?

2009-11-03T11:44:00.000-08:00

I recommend you listen to this song as you read my post.

So, here was our plan:

Chris leaves for basic training in January.

The monkey, the parasite, and I leave for Virginia in January to live with my parents.

While there, I buy a car, have a baby, and eat a lot of chicken nuggets (my mom said she would buy them for me if I came [the nugs, not the other stuff] I really like chicken nuggets.)

In June our little family would be officially reunited somewhere (I am guessing some midwestern state I have never heard of like Kanskobraska).

However, now the recruiters (by the way, these recruiters are real stinkers), have said that Chris won't start training until March. MARCH! And we won't know any dates until December 4th.

So now we are trying to decide what the best choices are for our family. Should we buy a car here after all? Should I go early so I won't have the baby on an airplane with Sophie as my only nurse? They let you fly up to 30 days before your due date. Should I just have the baby in Nebraska and call him/her Omaha WhyamIstillinNebraska Lewis?

I just wish those walnut-faced recruiters could have given us better information from the beginning. I'm not feeling very Christian towards them right now. Well, I guess I do feel like some Christians.

Public Transportation

2009-11-02T18:04:00.001-08:00

First of all, I would like you to know that for breakfast today I had a KitKat bar, a cookie, and some lemonade*. I love Halloween. Sophie had oatmeal, whole wheat toast, and some apple. Heh heh**.

Secondly, I would like to talk about transportation. Our car broke down a few weeks ago. This didn't change our lives that much. Chris already bikes to work. The grocery stores, mall, church, Subway sandwich joint, playgrounds, and pharmacy are about a five minute walk away. We were only planning on being here until January so we figured that we would just try and go without a car. There was just one fly in the ointment.

DOCTOR APPOINTMENTS.

Sophie's doctor and my OBGYN are pretty close. I would have no trouble walking to them by myself, but Sophie is no longer too keen on the stroller. She wants to walk. But instead of walking in a straight line she insists on stopping every few steps and shoving sticks and bugs into her mouth. If only she could do that AND walk at the same time. Oh well.

So, today we took our first ride on STARTRAN Lincoln, Nebraska's bus line. I was a little nervous. I checked and double-checked the schedule. I made sure I had exact change. I packed about 95 outfits for Sophie in the diaper bag, in case she shoved a stick too far down her throat and vomited, or in case she wanted to play tennis, or go to a ball. We got to the bus stop 10 minutes early which, it turns out, was the only hard part about the whole deal. It turns out it is hard to keep a toddler on a street corner for 10 minutes.

Riding a bus in Nebraska was just like every experience I have had with public transportation It's easy. Sophie loved it. I loved it. In fact, it was better than driving because I hate driving. And, except for the bus driver I had in middle school, I love bus drivers. (This is what I remember my middle school bus driver looking like, except he wasn't Asian, and I never saw him from this angle. But this is the general idea.) I also like having little bus conversations with people.

I only regret that nothing exciting happened because I would be able to write a more exciting blog post.

Out first bus trip to my doctor was a wild success (Oh, by the way, my unborn child seems to be doing fine), so tomorrow Sophie and I will take our second bus trip to a bus station thing to get month passes. Then we will try some trips to the library and perhaps Walmart.

Today, when I was not braving the city buses I read the book The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. It was for a book club and I was prepared to be bored by it, but I loved it. I read the first chapter yesterday and the rest today. My house is a mess but I am pretty happy. Sometimes when I read a book all day I feel sick and grimy, like when I watch movies all day), but this book left me feeling refreshed. The title made me think that it was going to try to be all girly, cutesie like the traveling pants book movie (I didn't read the book but I didn't like the movie at all) but it's not like that at all. It's got a lot of history in it--it takes place just after WWII and it talks a lot about the German occupation of the British Isle of Guernsey, which I didn't think I would find fascinating, but I now do. It's written as a bunch of letters, which I thought would be annoying, but was fun. Also, there is a love story but the author doesn't ram it down your throat, which is nice.

I have just considered all the people who may read this blog and I think you would all like it. Go read it. Chris and I are both reading the Wimpy Kid Series as well. They are a little funny, but very much like reading a comic strip in that after you have read it (even 5 seconds after) you never think of it again. Chris has a lot of cool books he's reading now. Maybe he will blog about them some time.

Now I am worried that no one will read my post because I get carried away typing and type to much. Dang it. Oh well. Please enjoy this picture of us at our local grocery store (which we walked to).

* So you know, the lemonade was from powder. There definitely was no real lemon in it.

** Don't worry, I also had some healthy stuff. After all, there is a little tumor of love growing inside of me right now that shouldn't get to enjoy my hard earned Halloween candy.

NABLOPOMO 2009

2009-11-01T07:22:00.000-08:00

So, Bridget has posted her call for NABLOPOMO writers. Read more about it here. Knowing that I have committed to write thirty posts in thirty days makes me feel too busy to explain it myself. After all I am (will) be doing so much writing already.

So, I thought I'd start out by recapping our Halloween. I've never really properly celebrated Halloween. We spent most of my trick or treating years in third world countries where trick or treating wasn't the norm. I remember one Halloween where some ambitious American parents got together and decided we needed to have an authentic trick or treating experience. So, we put on our costumes and in a large, chaperoned group were led from one expatriate house to another until tragedy struck. I don't know if we were led to a wrong house, or if it was the right house and the residents had just forgot to tell the guards to expect us. Anyway, our night of trick-or-treating fun ended by a bunch of Honduran guards swearing at us and telling us to go get jobs and stop begging. There are a lot of beggars in Honduras and they regularly go door to door asking for food...much like we were. The fact that we were white kids in costumes just made us weird.

I went trick-or-treating once in the States, but I was old enough that it was weird. I did feel like a beggar. I never really got in to Halloween.

Yesterday, however, was a blast. It was Sophie's first Halloween. (Okay, it was her second, but since we did not dress her up last year, buy any pumpkins, or attend any Halloween events I am counting this one as her first.) We dressed her up in a monkey costume and then Chris and I both wore green shirts, brown pants and a few cut out leaves and bananas to be trees. Sophie loved loved LOVED being a monkey. She's only 15 months old so I didn't think she'd get it, but she did. Monkeys are one of the few animals that she can make appropriate sounds for. That kid was making monkey noises all night and laughing her head off. We walked to our local grocery store celebration and then to our ward Trunk-or-Treat (see a later post to hear about our car-less situation), and she could barely stand upright she was cracking up so much. She cried when I took off her monkey costume.

Plus, she is an excellent trick-or-treater. She is STELLAR at reaching into candy bowls, grabbing multiple items, stuffing them into her sack, and then quickly going back for more. One old lady thought her greedy skills were so cute that she insisted on letting Sophie keep going till she got bored. Sophie did not get bored and I finally pulled her away after she emptied a third of a big candy bowl into our bag (no exaggeration). Sophie cried when I took her away from the bowl. She's no dummy

We ended up with so much loot! And the best part is that all Sophie gets to eat is the lame apple we got. I guess we will let her play with the wrappers as well. It was pretty fun to have an intense candy swap with Chris while Sophie was obliviously eating her dinner of peas, whole wheat bread, apple, and pepperoni (she really likes pepperoni). The poor sap didn't even realize what we were doing.

I think Halloween was the best day of Sophie's life so far. It was pretty high up Chris and my books as well.

Making Soapy's Library

2009-07-21T17:24:00.000-07:00

I love books, but I don't particularly want to own them unless I know I will refer to them often. I just reviewed our bookshelves and these are the books that we own that I would buy again if our house burned down:

The Chicago Manual of Style
The Complete Fairy Tales of the Brother's Grimm
The Best American Poetry 2005 (It was a good year, trust me.)
The complete collection of plays by Tennessee Williams
The Making of a Poem
The scriptures
Several of my cookbooks

I love going to libraries, and since I am quite comfortable with inter-library loan I don't see much use in keeping books. I know that is boringly practical of me, but there it is.

Lately, however, I have been thinking a lot about Sophie's reading habits (Five Little Ladybugs, Curious George's ABC's, Everybody Poops...). Especially if we travel I would like her to have lots of other fun and exciting books at her fingertips. So, I am going to start a library. I just joined Paperback Swap which is a free online organization that you trade books, cds, and dvds on. It seems the perfect place to start building up a library for the Boapers.

I have started to compile a list and am looking for recommendations. I am looking for anything that would appeal to a sweet and gentle girl who is also a loud screaming barbarian who will one day be tough enough to bite through tires if she wants.

Here is what I am thinking of so far:

Fablehaven series
Maniac Magee, Wringer and anything by Jerry Spinelli

Holes

all of Gordan Korman's books (Losing Joe's Place)

Laura Ingalls Wilder books (Little House on the Prairie)

Louisa May Alcott books (Little Women)

Chris Van Allsburg books (The Mysteries of Harris Burdick)

Taran Wanderer

Anne of Green Gables

Enders Game

A Wrinkle in Time

The Hunger Games

Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry

The Boxcar Children

The Borrowers

Pippi Longstocking

And...I am tired of making this list now.

What are your favorite children's books that Soaps should read?

Beds

2009-07-21T15:23:00.000-07:00

I found this pretty cool posting about some crazy modern beds. Check it out here.

Back to Blogging!

2009-06-12T15:47:00.000-07:00

I am almost done with my first term of online teaching and I think I am finally getting a grasp on managing my time so...I thought I would make a little blog.

Ahem.

I haven't read as much since Soapy was born. However, I have read a bit and I decided to show off the non fiction books I have read below because I used to NEVER read nonfiction books and look how many I have read! I should say that I started reading a lot more books but I got bored or traumatized before finishing them.

This is probably my least favorite of the books, despite it's interesting title and seductive muhajiba cover.

This was a great book to listen to on CD while I did dishes. I now understand my middle school years a lot better. Man. Those were terrible times. I also heard some interesting things about divorce. The author said that if a couple wants to get divorced (assuming that there is no abuse or extenuating circumstances) and they have children at home that they should probably not get divorced. She said that if you want to be good parent, a divorce will force you to be more involved with your exspouse than if they were still your spouse. She also said that even if you can't stand your spouse and fight a lot, if it is not extreme the kids will still be fooled. I don't know much about divorce but that was pretty interesting.

I no longer feel clueless about giving birth.

(Thank you, Bridget.)

This book just makes me feel smart. I loved it. And, it is why Soapy is going to be an engineer.

Freakonomics is full of fun facts like this one:
Consider what happened one spring evening at midnight in 1987: seven million American children suddenly disappeared. The worst kidnapping wave in history? Hardly. It was the night of April 15, and the Internal Revenue Service had just changed a rule. Instead of merely listing each dependent child, tax filers were now required to provide a Social Security number for each child. Suddenly, seven million children—children who had existed only as phantom exemptions on the previous year's 1040 forms—vanished, representing about one in ten of all dependent children in the United States.
(Levitt, 21)

I am currently reading this one:

It's basically a history of American trends in child rearing. This was referenced in Freakonomics and I thought it would be similar to Birth. So far it is pretty boring. The author is kind of longwinded.

As far as fiction goes, I have been reading a lot of science fiction lately. This is weird for me. I'm not anti-science fiction but usually I don't read it. Most recently I have been reading all of Orson Scott Card's books that follow Ender's Game. That was a good book. All the other ones are kind of disappointing. Even Ender's Shadow.

Anyway. Hooray for books and blogs.

For Katie

2009-05-09T18:41:00.001-07:00